


Rescue Me

by Star_Gazing_Knight



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Broken Paladin Bond, Civil War, Drama, Galra Empire, Langst, M/M, Mystery, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sign Language, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2019-11-19 14:06:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 69,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18136730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_Gazing_Knight/pseuds/Star_Gazing_Knight
Summary: Companion Fic toWalk on Water.  You do not need to have read WoW to understand this.When Lance was rescued from a Solo Mission gone Sour by the Prince of the Galra, Lance honestly wasn't sure what to expect.  Then again, this was space, and he really ought to have learned to expect the unexpected by now.  Even if the unexpected included getting involved in a Civil War (one that was started overhisrescue no less), the Prince that rescued him, and said Prince's team.





	1. Chapter 1

Lance hummed quietly to himself as he looked out at the city.  The setting sun painted the world in array of reds, golds, and shadows; reminding him just a bit too much of home.  All this place needed was some colored houses, columns, and an ocean; and it’d really feel like home.

Not that this place wasn’t beautiful or anything, because it was.

 It was like nothing Lance had ever seen before, even when traveling with the other Paladins.  Then again, a lot of things out in space were like nothing Lance had ever seen before. 

The terraced buildings blended nearly seamlessly in with the mountainous terrain despite being a very populated city.  Lush gardens and parks covered nearly every roof, and it was almost impossible to tell if one was walking on a roof or actual ground.

He was on the second highest level of the tallest building in the city, giving him one of the most gorgeous views of the valley-city.  The bars of the railing were spaced wide enough that he could sit with his legs dangling over the edge and still feel secure. 

The burble of a fountain echoed behind him, along with the quiet murmur of voices from the semi enclosed porch.  The laughter of children playing echoed on the breeze, a stark comparison to the talks that had led to Lance coming out here.

Civil War. 

He laughed once humorlessly to himself.  After all the work Voltron had put into destroying the Galra Empire, and here it was, doing exactly that all on its own.  Well, not entirely on its own.  He was partially to blame for this.  Him and…

There was new noise from behind him, and the person Lance had just been thinking of – speak, or in this case, think of the devil and he shall appear – approached the railing, his gaze distant on the horizon.  He was clearly as lost in thought as Lance had once been.  He rested his hands on the railing, heaving a sigh as he looked out at the city like Lance had just been not even moments before. 

Lance’s heart fluttered every so briefly as he looked up at his personal _hero_.  The man who had rescued Lance from the evil clutches of Zarkon’s pet Space Witch and saved Lance from experiencing the countless indescribable horrors that Shiro had known under her ‘care’.

Yet despite how fairytale-esque it was for a legitimate – Did it still count if he was exiled and banished? – prince to come save the damsel in distress, it hadn’t been for Lance’s sake at all.  Oh no. 

No.  Mr. Prince Charming had rescued Lance completely by coincidence.  He heard that Zarkon’s pet Space Witch – her name started with an ‘H’, but Lance couldn’t for the life of him recall what it was – was transporting something _important_ and had decided to antagonize her by stealing it out from under her nose.

It was just a happy coincidence that the ‘something important’ had turned out to be Lance. 

He hadn’t expected Lance any more than Lance had expected a rescue. 

And neither of them expected the fallout.

“A civil war, huh?” Lance asked, using the railing to swing himself back up onto his feet.  He smiled at Lotor, trying – and failing, he knew – to convey friendliness to possibly the prickliest of his new traveling companions, to the man he owed his life and sanity to.

Happy accident or not, Lance still felt that he owed him. 

As per usual and expectation, Lotor ignored Lance.  Most of the time when they interacted, it was with the Generals as buffers, but even those interactions were stilted. 

Lance tried not to take the not-so-subtle rejection to heart.  He guessed that he just didn’t have the right personality to appeal to _royalty_ , if his interactions with Allura, and now Lotor, were anything to go off of.  In any case, Lance was just happy and thankful that Lotor was willing to go through the hassle of attempting to reunite Lance with Voltron; and was treating Lance like a person despite being technically Lotor’s prisoner.

“Looks like you’re a hero to these people too if they’re starting a civil war over you.” Lance continued in lieu of a response. 

Finally, Lotor gave him a response, even if it was just the tightening of his lips and the slightest down turn of the corners to create a frown.

It wasn’t like Lance was being sarcastic when calling Lotor a hero, so he wasn’t exactly sure why Lotor grimaced like that anytime Lance brought it up.  He didn’t get a chance to ask as their conversation was interrupted. 

“I tried telling him that his hands-off approach to governing was gonna be a problem when he first started doing it.”  Ezor sighed dramatically behind them. 

Huh, if both Ezor and Lotor were out here, then the meeting must have either a) drawn to a close or b) taken a break.  Either way, the information was interesting, and Lance physically perked up at it. 

“You let the planets under your control keep their OG government?” It was interesting to Lance that despite his parentage, or perhaps in spite of it, Lotor had allowed that.  Given how tightly he ran his ship, Lance had kinda imagined that he was just as strict with the planets under his care.

Apparently Lance had assumed incorrectly, which was totally cool.  In at least this situation, Lance preferred being wrong. 

“Within reason.”  Lotor replied.  “It’s easier to let them manage themselves within set guidelines of the Empire than try to force the Empire’s ways onto them completely.”

Well, that made sense.  With something as wide spread as the Empire and with as many people and cultures there were… it only made sense to enforce a guideline and certain rules.  Kind of like the United States Federal Government verse the individual state governments. 

The planets were states, and the Empire was the federal government. 

“What he means, is that it was less work for him.” Ezor stage whispered to Lance, rolling her eyes. 

Lance laughed.  Out of his newest traveling companions, Ezor was by far his favorite.  She reminded him more than a little of his sisters, although, perhaps not physically.  She was the most friendly and lively of them.  Colorful both physically and in personality. 

It didn’t hurt that she had been the one to find him, even if Lotor had been the one to actually rescue him.  

He had vague memories of the rescue thanks to the gas that his containment chamber had been filled with to keep him sedated and pliant, but the moment where Lotor opened the chamber and caught his body was forever etched into his mind.  He was about seventy percent certain that Lotor had carried him at some point as well.

Lotor narrowed his eyes at them before spinning on his heel and marching away from the area. 

“What’s his problem?” Lance huffed, watching him go.  Ezor was silent and Lance glanced over at her to see her also staring after Lotor with a speculative gaze.

“I think…” She started, pausing as she tilted her head.  She hummed a long flat note.  “I’m not sure.  It’s hard to tell what’s going through his mind.” 

Lance wanted to shake her and demand she finish her first thought, but he didn’t.  Instead he pursed his lips and turned to face the city again, leaning forward on the railings with his forearms.  There was an urge to pull out the data chip that put him in this situation in the first place, to play with it to keep his hands busy while his thoughts ran rampart in his mind.

He resisted the urge. 

“It’s hard to tell what you’re thinking sometimes too.”  Ezor said, coming up on his side and leaning against the railing. 

Lance didn’t have much of a response to that.  For as much as Lotor was Lance’s hero, he was also his enemy.  Everyone on Lotor’s crew – including Lotor – were Galra, even if they didn’t look it.  They all served the empire, some more than others. 

Lotor was a prince after all.

Emphasis on _was_.  Zarkon disowned him and declared him a traitor to the Empire when he rescued Lance.  Except, a good portion of the Empire _liked_ Lotor, and didn’t take the news of his disownment and exile well.  They had rallied up for Lotor in a shocking display of loyalty that had Lance really questioning Lotor.

What kind of man was he to incite such loyalty among the colonized planets of the Empire? 

He seemed so different from his father, from Zarkon.  Was the difference from his mother?  Or perhaps the desire to be different than the tyrant his father was?  Or… was he a reflection of the type of person Zarkon _used_ to be.

Zarkon was once the Black Paladin; and Lance couldn’t see that being a thing if Zarkon had always been a tyrannical dictator asshole.  So, then what had changed?  What caused him to become the emperor he was now?  Lotor seemed to harbor a healthy distaste and distrust of the witch… could she have been involved?

Too many questions and not enough answers.  Like the empty data chip that he was nearly tortured and experimented over. 

“Maybe it’s because my head’s full of air, dead flies, and bits of fluff?” Lance joked. 

Ezor scrunched up her nose, clearly finding fault with the imagery Lance provided with his words.  “I don’t think that’s it.”  She disagreed lightly a moment later. Lance half shrugged in response.  She hummed another long low note before letting it die off.  Silence reigned for a good few moments.

Lance usually did his best not to let silence go on for long periods of time.  Too much silence gave him too many opportunities to think about things he didn’t want to think about.  Things like Earth, his family, and most recently… Voltron.

Lotor’s group had tried – and failed – countless times over the past couple weeks to get him back to the team, but… as it turned out, getting in contact with Voltron was a bit more difficult than Lance thought it would be. 

Some part of him poisonously wondered if perhaps that was on purpose.

Which, to some degree, he knew it was.  If it was _easy_ to get in contact with Voltron and the Coalition, then Zarkon would have destroyed them already.  He nearly did the last time they did battle.  Of course, at the time, they only had the support of Olkarion and the Blade of Marmora. 

Now they had countless planets pledging their support.  An entire resistance and coalition at their beck and call. 

Taking that into consideration, it should have been _easy_ for Lotor to find Voltron and return Lance.  Yet it wasn’t.  It really wasn’t.  There were politics and diplomacy, and alliances, and negotiations and a whole slew of other things that made Lance’s head spin and spin and spin.

Not to mention the doubts Lance had about Voltron…

Once more his mind strayed to the data chip and mission that got him here in the first place.  Some part of him thought it was all too convenient how things just fell into place during the ill-fated mission, but the implication of that… Lance didn’t want to entertain.  

“You’re Voltron’s sharpshooter, right?”  Ezor’s voice cut through the melancholy fog of his thoughts, and he looked over at her, considering his options. 

Part of him felt like he should lie and say he wasn’t, but just about anyone who had seen the Voltron Show would know him to be the sharp shooter.  There was no point in lying. 

Lance half shrugged again, not meeting her gaze as he stubbornly continued to look out at the city.  “I don’t have a weapon.”  He replied.

It wasn’t an answer, but it wasn’t not an answer either.  Almost automatically his hand fell down to the energy storage compartment where his bayard used to be.  It had been lost during the mission at some point, presumably after he lost consciousness.

Best case scenario, it was left at the Galra base where the team would find it.  Worst case scenario, the Galra had it.  Actually, scratch that.  With the questions floating around in his head, it probably was best if the bayard just wasn’t found at all. 

It was best left at that base, the supposed ‘data center’ where his mission had taken place.  Forgotten and lost both to the team and the Galra. 

He hated that he was without the bayard, but at least he still had his paladin armor.  Small mercies, he supposed. 

“That’s alright!” Ezor chirped. If she noticed the movement of his hand, she didn’t bring attention to it.  “Acxa might be willing to let you borrow one of her blaster pistols.” 

“Pluh-ease.” Lance scoffed, rolling his eyes.  “Like she would let me anywhere near one of them.” 

“She might!” Ezor argued.  “You’ve got to be a decent shot if you’re the ‘ _sharpshooter’_!” 

The emphasis she put on ‘sharp shooter’ grated at Lance in a way that tempted him to prove himself to her.  To demand a firearm to put her doubt to rest. 

A large part of Lance was tempted to argue against her.  To bring up points such as him being Lotor’s ~~prisoner~~ guest, and therefore not being allowed a weapon.  Lotor didn’t trust him with one, and frankly, Lance didn’t blame him. 

If team Voltron had one of Lotor’s crew as a ‘guest’ on the castle ship, he would guarantee that they’d be stripped of their weapons too.  They’d probably also be contained somehow, like they had contained Sendak. 

Just thinking of being contained again, like how the Galra had contained him before his rescue via Lotor, made Lance mentally shudder.   Every night since his rescue, his dreams had been full of the terrifying darkness and isolation that he experienced during his time with the Galra. 

He might have technically been a prisoner, but he was utterly thankfully to have been allowed the relative freedom of movement. 

And it wasn’t like _Lotor_ had been the one to strip Lance of his weapon.  He hadn’t expressly forbidden Lance from having one either.  He hadn’t expressly forbidden Lance from much of anything, actually.  

Ever since Lance had woken up on Lotor’s ship, he had been free to wander around it – granted he didn’t cause trouble or go in obviously restricted areas.  He hadn’t been tortured or interrogated.  The most he had been asked about Voltron was all in the interest of finding Voltron to _return_ him.

Despite all of Lance’s skepticism, Lotor did seem true with his intent there.  But why?  That was a question Lance had yet to discover.

The only thing he could think of was that Lotor planned to either a) use Lance as a good faith gift to get on Voltron’s good side, or b) he was a bargaining chip to get something specific from Voltron.

But what would he want?  He had the loyalty of a decent portion of Galra Empire, he had four kick ass generals – even the creepy blind one that never spoke was awesome – and was a generally handsome badass.  

He didn’t give Lance the creepy bad guy vibes of wanting Allura or Pidge for nefarious reasons.  So what was his aim?  His goal?  What did he _want_? 

It was something Lance was determined to discover, hopefully before Lotor and Voltron met. 

“Alright!” Ezor chipped, taking his arm in a frog march.  “Enough of that!  I thought the Red Paladin was the grumpy quiet one, not you!” She tugged him along.  “I wanna check out these ‘ _sharpshooter’_ skills for myself, even if I have to steal a blaster for you.”

Lance stumbled along with Ezor, stunned from being so abruptly taken from his thoughts.  “What? Wait, where am I gonna show off these skills for you anyways?”

“A shooting range, duh.” 

A shooting range?  Man, he hadn’t been to one of those in ages.  The last time was at the Garrison, unless he counted the makeshift range on the castle.  He didn’t need proficiency with firearms to get into the Garrison, but it certainly didn’t hurt one’s application. 

Although, visiting one was a good idea.  It would give him a chance to familiarize himself with additional weapons outside his missing bayard.  Once more he thought to his possible arguments, and sighed.  “Alright.”  He nodded, “I’m game.”

~

Blasters, Lance was pleased to find, were almost exactly like what he had been already using. There were some differences, of course, as Blasters weren’t tailored exactly to him as his bayard would be, but Lance was fairly certain he would be able to handle himself if it came down to it. 

If he wanted to be at the standard he had been at, then he would need to spend time with the blaster.  He would have to practice and practice and practice, until he knew the firearm just as well as he knew himself. 

Each firearm was different, and while skill and talent could make up for a lot, _knowing_ the weapon could make a definite difference. 

That being said, Lance would make do with what he had. 

There was something calming about being on a range.  The outside world just seemed to blend, blur, and melt away, taking with it all his questions, troubles, and worries.  On the shooting range, he could just take a moment to focus on the shot without having to fear about someone sneaking up behind him or worry about how his teammates were doing.

It was just him, his firearm, and the target.  Nothing more, nothing less. 

He finished, putting down the blaster – not one borrowed from Acxa but from the range itself – and looked to where Ezor should have been standing alone.  Except she wasn’t.  At some point, without his notice, a small crowd had gathered around her to watch him.

A few of the faces were familiar, like Acxa and Zethrid, but a majority of the crowd was comprised of inhabitants of the world.  Ezor immediately broke into applause, whistling in appreciation.  “Sharpshooter indeed!” She cheered. 

Lance wasn’t prone to blushing, but he felt his entire face flush with heat at her praise.  When he was training in the castle, it was almost never with an audience.  To suddenly have one now – and one that assured him that he was _good –_ it was unreal.

Usually Acxa’s gaze was dismissive anytime she looked at him, but this time, he could tell it was speculative and heavy.  Likewise, Zethrid was giving him a look that said he wasn’t just a bug for her to stomp on anymore. 

He wasn’t sure how he felt about these changes.  Part of him was excited at having the approval of these exceptional ladies who could all kill him with basically a thought, but another part of him was just… unsure.

“What do you know?  The runt’s got some tricks up his sleeve after all.” Zethrid commented as he approached, stepping forward to give him a congratulatory slap on the back.  Lance stumbled forward an extra step from the force.

“You certainly know your way with a blaster.”  Acxa considered him.  “How are you with other firearms?”

“I haven’t messed with much space weapons besides my bayard, but on Earth, I practiced with several rifles, shotguns, and handguns.”   It felt oddly impersonal to explain his capabilities, and in hindsight, he realized he probably should have either a) flubbed up and shot poorly, or b) underestimated his skills. 

These people, while friendly for now, were still part of the Galra Empire – even if not from the part that sided with Zarkon – and therefore, were still potential enemies.  They could change their mind and imprison Lance at any time.  They could torture him.  They could…

Give him a weapon?

“Keep it.”  Acxa pushed the firearm back into Lance’s hands when he tried to return it, and then nodded up at an observation deck.  Lance saw the trailing tips of white hair, and he didn’t need to be a genius to know who else had been watching from up there. 

His stomach twisted, and his heart did the weird little flutter thing at the thought of Lotor watching him.  An unexpected crowd was one thing, but the prince as well?

Lance’s gaze fell back on Acxa and he was startled to see her giving him the faintest of smiles.  He accepted the firearm, and she nodded curtly before stepping away and heading off to do whatever she did when not around him.

“Oooo, you’re so good with firearms!” Ezor hip-checked him, grinning wildly.  “How about other stuff?  How’s your hand-to-hand?”

“Any other weapon skills?” Zethrid added, crossing her arms as she considered him.  “You look like sword would be a good fit.”  She tilted her head, her gaze heavy with contemplation.  Lance fidgeted under it.  “Maybe a… broadsword,” She paused, her gaze turning to Ezor.  “What’cha think?”

“A broadsword?” Ezor furrowed her eyebrows, tilting her head just a tiniest bit in confusion. She looked between Lance and Zethrid a few times.  “Wha… oh!” Her face literally lit up as whatever Zethrid was implying finally seemed to register to her. “Ohhhh… Oh.  Okay, yeah.  No, I see it now.”  

Well, that was more than little concerning, especially when Ezor’s manic grin could have rivaled Pidge when she talked about pranking someone or purposefully trying to confuse Allura or Coran.  Feeling eminent danger, Lance gulped audibly and slowly began to edge away.  

Zethrid’s arm shot out, wrapping around his back, her fingers curled around his upper arm in a grip almost tight enough to bruise even through the armor.  She smiled at Lance, and he felt himself pale. 

“Why don’t you come with us and give a demonstration of your other skills?” 

She phrased it like a suggestion or an offer, but… Lance knew there was only one reply.  He smiled widely, laughing nervously in a ‘what the fuck’ kind of way. 

“Yeah!”  He nodded.  “Sure.  Okay.”

Ezor laughed, and the sound sent chills down Lance’s spine.  “This is going to be _priceless_.”

~

Lance wouldn’t say that his only skills were with firearms.  He was talented and skilled at other things, like acting, dancing, aerial silks, maneuvering a social function, or braiding hair.  He was a good enough pilot to get into the Garrison, so he had skill with that.  He was good at being loud and annoying, and catching people’s attention, but also at being quiet when it was needed, and reading the atmosphere. 

He was skilled with a lot of things… Just not the types of things that the Galra typically expected.

He lamented this fact as Ezor put him back on his ass for the umpteenth time that day.  Not the first time, he was thankful of the paladin armor’s gloves for protecting his hands from being scraped against the ground.

Firing a firearm would be unpleasant if he had scratches and scrapes on his palms.

“Wow… I didn’t think Team Voltron would leave their sharp shooter so…”  Ezor waved a hand at him, as if she could just encompass what she meant with his bruised aching form. 

“Weak?” Zethrid suggested.  “Indefensible, vulnerable, easy to crush?”  She listed off, tapping her fingers at each suggestion with a sharp click against the wall separating the training yard from the rest of the world.  She rested her head on her folded arms on top of the wall as she watched them.  It had become apparent to her very early on that Lance was in no shape prepared to take her one in one-to-one hand-to-hand combat. 

So Ezor had stepped in to thoroughly kick Lance’s ass in Zethrid’s stead. 

“Mmm,” Ezor hummed and tilted her head as she considered Lance.  “Pathetic.” She nodded her head decisively as she offered him a hand to stand. 

“Hey!” Lance protested.  And speaking of protesting, he could feel his muscles protest against him as he forced himself to stand again without Ezor’s ‘help’.  Last time he accepted that hand, she yeeted him across the training ground and reminded him not to trust people on the battlefield. 

He was _not_ interested in a repeat of that. 

Ezor seemed delighted by his rejection – as she had the past two times he had rejected her ‘help’ – and clapped her hands joyously.  “Oh, don’t worry little Paladin, we’ll take care of that since Voltron is so incapable.”

She did not have the right to sound so flipping happy while basically declaring his doom and death.  She just didn’t have that right.  She didn’t.  Yet she did it anyways. 

He groaned.  “I don’t doubt that.” 

Both Ezor and Zethrid exchanged looks and broke into laughter. Unease prickled along Lance’s spin, “Oh, you have no idea, little Paladin.”  Ezor practically sung before she threw herself back at Lance with what he was certain was intent to kill or at the very least maim him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come talk to me on my [Tumblr](https://star-gazing-knight.tumblr.com/)! :D


	2. Chapter 2

Lance stood in the middle of an empty hallway.  He knew where he was, and why he was there.  He needed to get something, a chip of data from the data center in the middle of the facility.  Glancing down at his hand confirmed that he had the data chip.  He glanced behind him, and _knew_ that if he took a right, three lefts, and another right, he would be back at the data center. 

But he needed to get _out_. 

The alarms started blaring, red lights flashing along the hallway as he started to run.  He could hear the Galra behind him shouting and yelling, searching for him.  The same sounds came from in front of him and down side hallways.  He was surrounded.

He needed to escape.

He tapped frantically on his coms, trying in vain to reach Shiro or Pidge or _someone_ , but there was nothing but static feedback.  He was on his own, outnumbered and out maneuvered in a labyrinth of a data center, trapped like a mouse in a maze. 

He couldn’t stop moving.  If he stopped moving, they would find him.  He needed to get out.

As if by some miracle he turned the corner and the exit was _there_.   Shining brightly from the light of the outside, beaconing to him like the gates of heaven themselves. _Freedom_.  He could be free if he could make it to them. 

He could escape.  Once he got there, he would be safe.  He just needed to get out of the facility. 

He was so close, he could almost taste the outside, but then the floor dropped out from beneath him.  His stomach twisted as he fell into a small cylindrical container, the top sealing above him, locking him off from the oh-so-close promise of freedom.

He pounded on the walls, screaming at the top of his lungs for someone, _anyone_ , to let him out.  To save him.  To rescue him.

Why wasn’t Shiro on the comms?  Why was no one responding to him!? Why was he so alone?

The sharp hiss of gas being released caused Lance’s efforts to double, even as the gas drifted down upon him like a soft snow.  It clotted in his nose and mouth, suffocating and silencing him.  He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think. 

His body felt slow and sluggish as his hands went up to his throat, like he could physically scoop out the gas slowly strangling him. 

He sat up with a sharp short gasp, his hands already mirroring his position from his dream.  Beneath his fingers, he could feel his pulse rapid and quick, full of fear and anger – but mostly fear.  He panted until he could breathe easy again before finally dropping his hands and falling back onto the bed with a groan. 

“Fuck.” Lance muttered.  “Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck, fuck.”

He wondered briefly if the Alteans or Galra had something to help with nightmares.  Or did neither of them experience nightmares or dreams?  He couldn’t recall Allura ever speaking of such, but then again, he supposed the whole possessed castle might as well as been a living one for her. 

Except she had a physical thing to destroy to stop her nightmare.  Lance had nothing but memories he wished he could forget.

He shook as he sat up again, as if he could shake off the memories and the nightmares.  He didn’t know what time it was, but it must have been early since Ezor banging on his door yet. 

They had taken to training in the morning, usually before even breakfast.  Sometimes they jogged before Ezor handed him his ass in hand-to-hand, and sometimes they just did some basic warm ups and stretches. After breakfast was spent at the shooting range with Acxa. 

It was a comfortable routine, and something that Lance had grown fond of – despite the ass kicking.  Spending time with the team wasn’t so much a chore to Lance as it was a needed activity to keep his sanity.  He was a social person and being isolated and alone by himself wasn’t something he typically enjoyed. 

Screw the stereotypes about snipers.

Also, spending time with the Generals gave Lance the benefit of getting a first-hand look into the team’s dynamics, and even getting them to open up to him. 

Lance knew people, and even if these people were aliens from outer space, some experiences were just universal.  Like racism, discrimination, colonization, fascism, dictatorships… the usual bad stuff that Lance had once assumed to be a human only thing.  People related, and like minds tended to flock together and all that.

He stretched on his bed before rolling out of it and getting dressed.  Mentally, he reviewed his day plan; not that it was much of one.  Until Voltron could be contacted and Lance returned, he didn’t have any real plans. 

He was just a very over-glorified prisoner of war, kept in a very shiny gilded cage disguised as ‘hospitality’.  Or at least, he thought he might have been. 

It was hard to tell somedays, and the longer he stayed and trained alongside Ezor and Acxa –  not Zethrid, and honestly, he was certain he would never be able to train alongside her – the more he started to feel like he wasn’t just a prisoner. 

He started to feel like he fit in.

Which was ridiculous and stupid because they were technically his enemy.  Ezor made sure to remind him anytime he forgot and grabbed her offered hand in the training yard.  Yet Acxa kept assuring him, time and time again, that he was free to leave at any time. 

But they all knew that he was safer with Lotor. 

With Lotor he had a chance to find Voltron, to return to his true and proper team.  He wouldn’t need to look over his shoulder more than he already was if he stayed with Lotor.  At least if Zarkon came for him here, he would be coming for Lotor as well.

And well, the enemy of Lance’s enemy was his friend.   Worse yet, Lance wasn’t even entirely sure who his enemy was.  There were guarantees, like Zarkon.  But there were so many more uncertainties. 

Once more his thoughts turned to the small blank data chip he recovered from the Data Center and all the questions floating around it, orbiting like the many moons of Jupiter.

He was startled from his thoughts by the familiar sound of Ezor banging on his door – something that usually startled him most mornings right of his dreams – and calling through it. 

“Good Morning Star Shine~” Her sing-song voice was mostly muffled by the door, but Lance didn’t need to hear her clearly to know what she was singing.  “The Earth says ‘Hello’!” 

“I regret ever teaching that to you.” Lance informed her as the door slid open.  She blinked down at him, her mouth open in a little ‘oh’ of surprise at him already being up and ready.  “And we aren’t on Earth.”

She shrugged.  “It’s cute and I like it.” 

“You like that it annoys Acxa.”  Lance corrected with a grin.  Ezor’s responding giggles were all but an admission of guilt from the colorful alien.  “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.  We’ll see who’s laughing when she uses you for target practice.”

“Only if she can find me.”  Ezor winked and disappeared from sight for a few seconds before reappearing a few steps ahead of Lance.  She bounced up on her toes for the short moment it took for Lance to catch up with her.  Lance honestly envied her morning energy.

It was no wonder that she often went for runs and jogs in the morning if she had _this_ much spare energy.  He could only imagine how much worse she would be when confined to a ship.  Thankfully, they hadn’t spent much time on the ship before landing on this planet.

Lotor had chosen this planet for its hospitality and strategic placement, or so Lance assumed.  Lotor was one of the few people on the enemy team that Lance had yet to figure out.  Which was a shame because he was the one Lance wanted to know the most. 

He was Lance’s _hero_ after all. 

“Say, Ezor?” Lance asked her as they reached the training grounds.  “You met Acxa and the others through Lotor, right?”

She hummed, resting her hand on her hip as she looked at him.  “I guess you could say that.”  She finally replied after a few moments of almost awkward silence.  Lance waited a few more moments to see if she would explain, but she didn’t. 

“Well then… how did you meet Lotor?” 

“How did I meet Lotor?” Ezor repeated, blinking down at him.  A half smile curled at the corner of her lips and her eyes narrowed as she rested both hands on her hips and leaned down so she was face-to-face with Lance.  “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Uh, I would, actually.”  Lance raised an eyebrow and leaned back on his heels.  “So… yeah.”

“Hmm.”  She hummed and thankfully leaned back – hadn’t she ever heard of personal space? – and tapped her finger against her lips.  “Hmmm.”  She continued to hum loudly as she pulled back to start her pre-jog stretches.  Lance followed along.   “How about this: if you can win a fight against me… I’ll tell you.”

“What?!” Lance complained.  “Oh come on, that’s gonna take forever.  You always kick my ass.” He paused in his stretches to cross his arms and glower at her.

“If you keep talking like that, then yeah.” Ezor shrugged, completely unapologetic.  “But think of it as incentive.  If you want to know, then you gotta get better.” She smiled at him before taking off down the track for her jog, and Lance cursed her under his breath as he raced to catch up.

~

Since Ezor was a bust for getting more information on his mysterious hero, Lance figured that he would try the other Generals.  Ezor was typically the gossip, so he assumed – incorrectly, it seemed – that he would get answers from her.  But unless he won a fight, that wouldn’t be happening. 

Acxa appeared to be the closest to Lotor, so he was initially hesitant to approach her.  The likelihood of her knowing more about Lotor than the other generals was incredibly high, but so was the chance of her telling Lotor that Lance was asking about him. 

Not that Lance was doing anything particularly suspicious but considering the blurry lines between ‘ally’ and ‘enemy’, and ‘prisoner’ and ‘guest’, Lance figured it probably wasn’t best to stir the pot, so to say. 

Alas, with Ezor refusing answers – for now – Acxa was Lance’s next best hope.  Especially as he knew Ezor and Zethrid often plotted together, so the possibility of Zethrid asking for a test – probably one of strength – was high. 

“You want to know how I met Lotor?” Acxa repeated as she rested her hand on her hip and arched an eyebrow.  “Why?”

“Is it really wrong of me to want to know more about my savior?” Lance smiled widely, nervously chuckling.  “It’s not like I’m asking, ‘does he have any glowing weak spots that I have to hit three times to win in a fight’, or anything.  It’s just a simple question.” 

“Hm.”  She pursed her lips and shifted her stance, so her arms were crossed.  She wasn’t that much taller than Lance, but somehow she always managed to make Lance feel like she was looking down on him.  Not always in the derogatory sense, but more in the ‘I’m-taller-than-you’ sense.  Like he was small compared to her. 

A skill she no doubt had to pick up being the smallest of the generals and the unofficial leader of the four.  Obviously Lotor was the big boss, and while it seemed that he treated all his generals equally, there was no doubt that Acxa was his Second-in-Command.   

“I can’t imagine you didn’t ask Ezor first.”  Acxa said.

Lance winced and looked away, grimacing at the reminder of how badly he lost at the race.  “She says I have to beat her in a fight to get the answer.”

“Did she now?” There was something about the tone of her voice that had Lance looking back at her, and he regretted it the moment he did.  That smirk plus that tone couldn’t spell out anything good for Lance.  “Well, then… I’ll propose a firearm challenge.  You’ve proven to be prescient enough in that skill set, so you should have no difficulty completing my challenge.”

“A firearm challenge?” Lance repeated.  Somehow, he didn’t think this was going to be as easy as just standing at the range and shooting targets. 

“It shouldn’t be anything too difficult for you.”  Acxa assured him in a sickly-sweet tone that did absolutely nothing to assure Lance.  “It’s just a little obstacle course.  I know you’re skilled stationary… I just want to see how well you do in battle where you must keep moving and dodging.  You can’t just stay at the fringes of the battle and pick off people.” 

Lance swallowed thickly.  Today was just not his day, was it?

~

“You look like you’ve had a day.” 

Lance jumped and twisted around to look behind him at Zethrid.  He hadn’t even noticed her when he came to the balcony to rest after his failure at both Acxa and Ezor’s challenges.   When Acxa ran through the obstacle course, it had looked so easy; yet the couple of times Lance tried, he always got hit. 

It wasn’t fair that the targets could hit him, but he supposed that was the point: to simulate a real battle.  Thankfully he was only being hit with the ‘paintball’ equivalent of energy blasters.  All he had to worry about was a few painful bruises instead of potentially life-threatening injuries. 

Hurray.

“You could say that.”  Lance sighed.  He walked over to where Zethrid was leaning against the railing and mirrored her position.  He side-eyed her speculatively.  “I suppose if I ask you how you met Lotor, you’ll challenge me to a test of strength or something, right?”

Zethrid yawned and turned her gaze to something below the balcony. “Why bother?  You’ll lose no matter what.  I’ll crush you.”

Well that was… encouraging.  Lance’s returning smile felt thin and tight.  “Thanks, Zethrid.  So, you’ll just answer my question?”

“I didn’t say that.”  She was quick to respond.  “Who all have you asked?”

“Ezor and Acxa.”  Lance replied.  He rested his head on his folded arms and sighed.  “Ezor wants me to win in hand-to-hand and Acxa wants me to complete a battle simulation, although she calls it an obstacle course.”

“You haven’t asked Narti?”

Lance winced.  It wasn’t that he didn’t want to ask Narti or anything, but… she honestly gave Lance the creeps.  Not to mention he wasn’t even sure how to properly talk with her.  Everyone else just spoke to her, but so far, he had yet to see her respond. 

“I don’t know how to talk to her.”

“You just talk.” 

“So how does she reply?” Lance asked. 

Zethrid looked back at him and slow blinked.  “If she feels like a response is needed, she’ll sign it.”  Zethrid paused.  “Or make someone else talk for her.” 

Well, that wasn’t ominous at all.  Nope.  Not one bit.  He would think Zethrid was kidding if it wasn’t for the fact that this was _Zethrid_ , and she typically didn’t lie or misdirect or anything like that.  She was blunt, to the point, and rarely embellished. 

How would Narti even ‘make someone else talk for her’ anyways?  Lance wasn’t sure he wanted to know. 

Lance laughed like she told him some weird joke anyways.  “Right.  So… uh… I’ll stop by her next.”

Zethrid nodded and resumed looking at whatever she had been looking at before.  On a whim, Lance followed her gaze and was surprised to see that Zethrid had been watching Ezor and Lotor.  The colorful general was talking to Lotor, gesturing wildly with one hand while resting her other one on her hip. 

At the distance they were at, Lance couldn’t be certain, but he thought Lotor looked unimpressed or perhaps bored. 

“There was an illegal gladiator ring on Phallax,” Zethrid randomly said.  Lance’s gaze jerked to her as she continued.  “Not too different from Emperor Zarkon’s gladiator matches.  Except, you know, not sanctioned by the empire.  The Empire sanctioned matches are between slaves and prisoners.  There’s nothing to win… nothing to gain; but not so on Phallax.”   

“So on Phallax, you join of your own free will?” Lance asked. 

“I didn’t say that.” Zethrid replied sharply.  “The gladiator rings always need people.  Generally, people had no choice but to volunteer if they wanted to be able to feed their families or protect someone.  If no one volunteered, then people would be taken as ‘ _tributes’_.”  Zethrid spat out that last word like it was poison. 

“Were you a tribute?” Lance asked, wondering if there was any particular reason for Zethrid’s venom in that word.  The side look she gave him could have been considered poisonous in its own right, although she laughed a moment later.

Talk about mixed signals.

“No.”  Zethrid replied.  “Not a chance.  I volunteered.  At first it was for my family.  So long as I won fights, they were taken care of but once they died… It just became a challenge for me.”  She flexed her hands, and Lance glanced down at them.  He could only imagine what a _challenge_ was to _Zethrid_.  “I worked my way to the top; an undefeated champion.”

“So, what happened next?  Is there where Lotor came in?”

“You could say that.  No one was a challenge to me anymore.  And people can quickly grow bored of an undefeated champion.   They wanted a new champion, not to just watch me wreck anyone who entered the ring with me.” 

“ _This_ is where Lotor came in.” 

Zethrid nodded.  “He challenged me, in more ways than one.”  She cracked a sharp smile.  “I had never seen anyone fight like him, and no one else had come close to seriously ending my reign in the arena.”  She let out a sharp short bark of laughter.  “Ha.  I still dream about that fight.”  She confided to Lance. 

“I take it he won?” Lance asked

“When it came to the end, the crowd chanted at him to finish me off.  Instead he offered me a position with him.  It wasn’t like I had any other place to go, you know?  I took his offer and never looked back.” 

Lance chewed on the information for a moment, turning his gaze back down to Lotor and Ezor – or at least to where they had been.  At some point during the conversation they had both left.  He tapped his finger against the railing. 

“Why did you tell me this?” Lance asked after a moment.  “I mean, I’m thankful that you did instead of challenging me or something but… why not test me like the others?  Not that I’m asking to be tested or anything!”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zethrid turn to look at him.  She stared at him for a long moment, the silence and her gaze weighing down on him.  “I have my reasons.”  She reached out and ruffled his hair in a way not too dissimilar to how his older sister used to.  Except Zethrid’s hand was nearly the size of Lance’s head.  “I figured I’d throw you a free bone.  It’s not like my story tells you much of anything.”

Except it did tell Lance something.  It told him that in that ring, where he could have killed Zethrid, Lotor had chosen to offer her a position with him instead.  With everyone chanting for him to kill her, he offered her life instead. 

He licked his lip and stored that information away.  “So you pitied me.”  He half-hearted complained as he ducked under her hand.   

 “Are you really going to complain?” Zethrid asked, resting her hands on her hips.  “Would you have preferred being beaten to a pulp or breaking an arm during an arm-wrestling match?”  

“Uh, no.   No, no, I’m good.”  Lance held up his hands.  “Totally good.  Kay?  Thanks.”

Zethrid chuckled and shook her head.  “If you say so.  Now, what’s with this interest in Lotor?”

Lance shrugged.  “I just want to get to know him a bit better.”  He paused and bobbed his head.  “Well, I wanted to get to know you all a bit better, but definitely him.  I see you guys more than I do him.”

“Lotor’s a hard guy to ‘get to know’.”  Zethrid replied, a strange tone in her voice that Lance couldn’t place.  He eyed her suspiciously, wondering briefly what she was thinking and implying.  

“Ezor said it was hard to know what he’s thinking sometimes.”  Lance said. 

Zethrid cracked a smile at the mention of Ezor and looked back to where she had been standing with Lotor before.  “Ezor’s more observant than most people give her credit for.”  Zethrid replied.  “And she’s not wrong.  Our prince keeps his secrets close to him, but he hasn’t led any of us astray yet.  At the very least, he’s kept his promise to keep things interesting for me.”  She shrugged. 

Lance wasn’t sure how to respond to that. 

“Before you go to see Narti… can you read Galran?”  She asked. 

Lance sucked on his teeth and was very, very tempted to say that he could.  Just because he felt like if he told the truth, he would regret it.  Then again, he also felt like if he lied he would regret it, except in a different way. 

“…no.”

“No?” Zethrid repeated.  She furrowed her eyebrows.  “You don’t know any dialect?”

“No.”  Lance shook his head. 

“And you don’t have a translator, do you?”

Some part of Lance felt like he should be irritated at how she just assumed that… but she wasn’t wrong.  He didn’t have a translator.  He didn’t even know that existed.   

“That’s a thing?”

“Vrekt.  Stupid backwater planets.”  Zethrid muttered shaking her head and ignoring Lance’s protest at Earth being called a ‘backwater planet’.  “That explains a lot.  C’mon, let’s go talk to Acxa. We’ll get you a translator and get you some materials to learn Galran.”

“Woah, woah, wait a moment.  What if I don’t want to learn?”  He could only imagine the flak he would get if he came back to Voltron and was suddenly fluent in Galra.  Not that he thought that would happen.  Surely he would be reunited with Voltron before that could happen… right?

“What, don’t think you can?” Zethrid challenged him.  “You wanted a challenge from me, so here it is.  In payment for the information I gave you, you can either be crushed by me or learn Galran.  Your choice.”

“I’ll take Galran.”  Lance’s voice _did not_ squeak in his haste to reply and anyone who said otherwise would be a liar.  Zethrid’s responding grin was exactly what younger Lance always imagined when he thought of a cat catching a mouse. 

“Good.  Now let’s go.” 

~

Lance sighed, scrolling through the data tablet half-heartedly.  Already knowing another language or two was _supposed_ to make learning new languages easier, right?  Or did that only apply to human languages?

A low ache started between his eyes some time ago from staring at the screen and it was finally getting to the point he couldn’t ignore it anymore.  He sighed again and pulled out a pair of headphones – or the space equivalent – and connected to them to the tablet.  Zethrid and Acxa had filled his tablet with a variety of songs that they thought would ‘help’.

He randomly selected one and grimaced at the almost childlike voice coming through the speakers.  Children songs.  He was listening to Children Songs.

“UGH!” He tossed the tablet off to the side of the bed and flopped down.  “This sucks.” He muttered. 

He supposed he could try looking at this in a positive light.  If he could learn Galran – or at least one dialect of it – then he could be of further use to the other Paladins.  They wouldn’t have to rely on Allura or Coran’s ~~admittedly~~ dated knowledge or translations available in the castle. 

He didn’t even think there was a person on Earth who knew the language that was spoken ten thousand years ago, yet Galran – or at least dialects of it – had last even longer than that.  Evolution and change were inevitable, no matter how much Zarkon apparently resisted. 

At least the dialect of Galran Zethrid was having Lance learn wasn’t too terribly complex.  It had less letters than in the English or Spanish Alphabet at least.  And the alphabet song he was listening to wasn’t too terribly bad.

It was actually kind of catchy. 

Well, he assumed it was the alphabet.  It was going over various sounds and repeating them in a little tune, and the various sounds were familiar.  They sounded like the ones Zethrid had run through with him earlier.

Of course, she was more focused on getting him to _read_ Galran.  The translators could help with hearing, but not reading. 

He closed his eyes and Galran symbols danced behind his eyelids to the rhythm of the alphabet.

~

Lance fell onto the floor in the most graceless manner and stayed, panting as he stared up at the sky.    Sweat ran down his back, slick but also sticky at the same time.  His heart raced, apparently having not received the message that the fight was over yet.

“I can’t win.” Lance complained between pants, looking up through sweaty hair fringe at Ezor.  She was standing with her arms behind her head, frowning down at him with a barely titled head.  She hadn’t even broken a sweat.  Upon noticing him watching her, she grinned viciously. 

“Get good, scrub.” 

“Vrekt.”  Lance repeated a word he had heard Zethrid use a few times.  He assumed it was a curse word, and by the scandalized expression on Ezor’s face, he assumed correctly.  “I regret teaching you that too.”  Lance continued.

Lance wanted nothing more than to just stay on the ground.  The sun could bake him into a very salty but still delicious Lance shaped and flavored snack.  All his problems would be solved if he could just become a snack.

Not that he wasn’t already a snack, except that was a different kind of snack.  And becoming the type of snack he was describing now wasn’t an option.  He didn’t have an option in a lot lately it seemed. 

His connection with the Blue Lion was fading by the day – not that he planned to tell any of the others about that – and there was too much at stake for him to just fade away.  Team Voltron needed him, didn’t they?

~~So why hadn’t they found him yet?~~

“Who taught you that?!” Lance winced at the very screechy tone Ezor’s voice took on.  “You were so _sweet and innocent_!” 

Lance scoffed, standing up and mirroring Ezor.  She dropped her hands and reached him in two strides to cup his face.  “ _Innocent!_ ” She repeated. 

“Get off me.” Lance wrinkled his nose as he jerked back and shook his head.  “Zethrid’s been trying to teach me stuff.”

“Zethrid.” Ezor repeated, her whole body freezing.  There was a very dangerous gleam in her eyes, which when added to the tone of her voice, made Lance suddenly feel very fearful for Zethrid’s continued wellbeing.  “So Zethrid _defiled_ you.”  She sniffled and crossed her arms.

“I wouldn’t-”

“I can’t believe she taught you ‘vrekt’ of all things!” Ezor interrupted him, shaking her head. 

“It’s just a word.” Lance rolled his eyes.  Really, there was no reason for these dramatics.  And it meant a lot that Lance was saying that considering he was Team Voltron’s resident Drama King.  Or at least he used to be until he was sent… It didn’t matter.  He would be the resident Drama King as soon as he got back. 

“It can’t be worse than quiznak.”  Lance shrugged dismissively.  He headed over to one of the many tables set up all around the training area with bottles of water to snag one.    

“ _Language!”_ Ezor all but shouted at him.  “My ears are bleeding from this foul language.  Who even taught you _that_ one?  I thought you didn’t talk with Lotor!”

Well, that got Lance’s attention.  He paused long enough for her to march up to him and cross her arms.  He couldn’t recall any one other than team Voltron using the word, and he sort of just assumed it was an Altean curse word only.  Or a really ‘old’ one that almost no one used anymore.

“Lotor uses that?”  Lance asked.

“If he didn’t teach you then who!?”

“Uh…” Funnily enough, Lance couldn’t remember if it had been Coran or Allura who had used the term in front of him first. “Either Coran or Allura.” It wasn’t like saying that was going to cause any issues or give anything away. 

“ _The Princess?!”_ Ezor mimed a fish gasping in the air.  “There is no way the _Princess_ taught you such a filthy word.” 

Lance arched an eyebrow.  “I thought Lotor uses it?”

Ezor jerked back, her mouth twitching like it couldn’t decide if it wanted to be open in a horrified gasp or frown.  “That’s _different_.”  She complained.  “Oh.  I’ve made a grave, grave mistake conspiring with such a… a…”  Her face scrunched up as she gestured wildly at Lance. 

“Quiznaking vrekt?”  Lance suggested, waggling his eyebrows.  “Oh, no, vrekting quiznak?”  He didn’t think it was possible for Ezor to change colors or flush, but here she was, changing colors before his eyes.  Her own eyes were impossibly wide.  She inhaled sharply. 

“You’re impossible!” She shook her head.  “I clearly need to intervene on your studies if _this_ is what you’re being taught!”

Lance laughed, thinking she was kidding.

~

Ezor was not kidding, but Lance just tried to look at it as a bonding time between her, Zethrid, and him.  Even if Zethrid looked like she was only refraining from murdering Lance because of Ezor’s presence – the very thing making her want to murder Lance.

~

Lance dodge rolled, neatly curling up into a small ball to pass under and through the shots fired at him.  He sprung up into a stand at the end of it and fired off a shot at the person who had been shooting at him.  And was neatly hit in his shoulder in reward, throwing him off balance just long enough to be hit a dozen more times in his chest. 

The buzzer went off, signaling his defeat and he groaned. 

“Oh come on!” He complained.  His whole body ached from the amount of hits he had taken this session alone.  He drudged himself over to the ‘safety’ area of the range, passing by a very unimpressed Acxa.  As per usual, her sessions had been _flawless_. 

“Try dodge rolling behind cover next time.” Acxa suggested.  “And when you spring up, don’t stand or jump.  Spring up into a controlled crouch so that the cover continues to protect you.  Also, remember there’s more than one target gunning for you.  You can’t just hyper focus on one and forget about the others.”

“I know, I know.”  Lance sighed.  “I won’t always have a team to watch my back.”

“Sometimes your team is the reason you need to watch your back.”  Acxa replied.

Lance’s entire body stiffened, his mind immediately going to the datachip he kept hidden and the last mission he was on for Voltron.  How did she know?  She couldn’t have…

“What?” Lance asked, swallowing thickly.  “What do you mean?”

Acxa pursed her lips and considered him for a good long moment.  Lance swore his heart didn’t beat at all until her lips parted.  “You’ve gotten better.”  Her gaze darted out to the training grounds that Lance had just left.  “In the beginning you were just a stationary target, an easy target for enemies to hit and for your team to defend.  Now you move, at least.” 

“I wasn’t that bad.”  Lance weakly defended himself.  “But what are you talking about with the team thing?”

“Just that you can’t always rely on a team, Lance.”  She wrapped her arms around herself.  Not quite hugging herself, but not crossing her arms either.  “Galra beliefs can be… extreme.  Even for resistances.”

Lance stiffened, but for a completely different reason this time.  In his mind, he heard what had to be a hundred different Galra voices claim ‘Victory or Death’ or…

“Knowledge or Death.”  Lance repeated the motto of the Blade of Marmora.  He never really thought much of it.  He had always assumed it was an exaggeration or euphuism.  Like ‘there is no try, it’s do or die’.

But maybe for the Galra it wasn’t just a saying, phrase, or exaggeration.  Maybe for the Galra it truly was ‘victory or death’ or ‘knowledge or death’. 

And now that he thought about, if that was true… that would explain why Shiro and Keith would always stiffen and act cagey anytime the motto was mentioned.  What had Keith and Shiro experienced at that Blade of Marmora base? 

Keith had joined so, had he almost… died?

It was Acxa’s turn to stiffen, her movements oddly robotic as she faced Lance again.  “Where did you hear that?”  She barked out. 

Lance blinked at her for a moment before realizing he had spoken the Blade’s motto out loud.  He considered lying to her but if his hunch was right then there was no point.  She already knew about the Blade, and by him saying their motto, she knew that he already knew about them.

“You’re a Blade of Marmora.” 

Acxa’s eyes widened marginally and she shook her head.  “No.”  Her voice wasn’t a whisper, but it was quieter than usual.  “No, I’m not.  I haven’t for years ever since…”

“You met Lotor?” Lance guessed.  “You left the resistance to join him?  Or did the Blade of Mamora ask you-”

“I would _never betray Lotor!_ ”  Acxa interrupted.  “The Blade of Mamora left _me_.”  Her eyes darkened as whatever bad memories she held of the resistance were brought to mind.  “’Lives lost or left behind don’t matter so long as the mission succeeds.’”

It sounded a lot like she was quoting someone, and unbidden, Lance thought to the earlier days with the Blade… when they were willing to let their inside agent just disappear and weren’t going to look into it.  The only reason they knew Thace died was because of Keith. 

“You might want to warn your team if they’re still working with the Blade of Marmora when you return.” Acxa continued, a slightly calmer and more sympathetic tone in her voice. 

“We haven’t had any issues with them.”  Lance replied.  “But they weren’t happy when we…”  Lance trailed off.

“Failed to defeat Zarkon?”  Acxa guessed.  “I should have suspected that they had a hand in it.  It was a good battle… Zethrid enjoyed watching it.  Although, we thought Voltron to be dead until it showed back up with the coalition.”

“To be fair, at the time… we thought we were going to die too.” 

“None of you were ready.” Acxa said.  “I imagine the Blade pushed you into their plans.  They told you it couldn’t wait.  It had to be done now.  And lives were nearly lost because of that.” 

Keith volunteering to infiltrate Zarkon’s ship – to what?  Prove himself – flashed in Lance’s mind again.  He swallowed thickly again and chose not to reply.  It seemed his lack of reply, however, was a reply in and of itself. 

“Like I said, Lance; you can’t always rely on your team.  You can hope that they’ll have your back, but when you get down to it, you never have to wonder or hope about yourself.”  Acxa patted him on the shoulder – her actions still oddly stiff and robotic – before turning on her heel and marching out. 

The whole conversation made Lance feel uneasy.  It rung too close to some of the mock conversations Lance held with himself late at night when he wondered too much about his last mission and the datachip from it. 

~

Lance hummed the alphabet absentmindedly as he copied the Galra characters in his tablet.  Visually, they kind of reminded Lance of an amalgamation of various Asian languages.  But the language didn’t sound Asians.  If anything, Lance thought it sounded rougher with sharper sounds. 

Zethrid reached out and tapped one of her claw-like nails on his tablet screen at a character he had just finished with.  “This is wrong.”

Lance paused and stared at the symbol, a very light and subtle feeling of irritation bubbling under his skin.  He knew the character.  He knew it well.  If only for the simple fact that it was one of the most difficult and annoying to write out. 

There were three that he had issues with, and while it was fine for two of the characters to be a little off, this particular character ended up looking like a character from another dialect, which changed the meaning of _everything_. 

“It’s not that hard.”  Zethrid sighed.  “Look.”  She took his tablet and stylus, and erased what Lance had.  “You try too hard with it.  Downward stroke, loop towards the top of the stoke back down and flourish through the stroke.”  She handed him back the tablet.  “Now try again.”

Lance groaned but didn’t complain as he accepted the tablet.

~

Lance was beginning to think that he was never going to set the story of how Acxa or Ezor met Lotor.  And until he learned Galran – or it’s sign language, which was a new thing Zethrid was starting him on because his life wasn’t hard enough – he couldn’t really communicate with Narti to get her story either.

He was forced to get knowledge about Lotor from throw away scraps of gossip he wrangled from Ezor or from eavesdropping on the locals. 

The more he heard, the more he wanted to know about him.  He wanted to hear from Lotor about the planets he saved, or the civilizations and culture that survived even if their planets didn’t due to Lotor’s quick thinking. 

Lance wanted to know more about this man who was a hundred times the Emperor his father was but did not wish to be.  Because if there was anything that was becoming clear to Lance, it was that Lotor didn’t wish to be emperor. 

He had his own plans and agendas, although what they were was anyone’s guess. 

He wanted to talk to Lotor, but that was proving more difficult than initially thought.  Finding Lotor was never difficult, but actually talking with him?  Now that was nigh impossible.  

The prince was always lingering around in the corner of Lance’s eye.  On balconies, in the plaza below balconies, on observation decks.  It didn’t matter where he perched, he always caught Lance’s eye.  Always hovering, always present, but never reachable.

Lance wasn’t sure if he was more annoyed with the Voltron team for not finding him yet or Lotor’s hovering/avoidance.  Although, it wouldn’t be long until they gave up.  Already he could feel his bond with Blue straining more and more.  It wouldn’t be long until it snapped and then…

And then Lance didn’t know what he would do.  So he tried to focus on Lotor, who Lance was quickly learning was harder to catch than Mew – and the only way to get _that_ Pokémon was through cheating, hacking, or events.

Naturally, it was a pleasant surprise when Lance saw Lotor looking out at the city from the railing they’d last spoken at.  He approached, determined to start a conversation before Lotor could turn and flee as he was so often prone to doing, and of course, he asked the first question at the top of his head.

“So, you really don’t want to be emperor?”

Lotor stiffened at his voice, half turning to face him.  His lips twitched, his eyes darkened; and Lance wished he knew the prince more to know what all that meant.  All the observational skills in the world didn’t mean a thing if one couldn’t read the signs they noticed. 

Once more Lance thought to what Ezor had told him, about how it was hard to know what he was thinking.  She had an unknown amount of years of experience with knowing Lotor, and if she still had trouble knowing what he was thinking, then what chance did Lance have?  Observational skills or not.

Still, part of Lance _wanted_ to be able to understand, for more reasons than the Altruistic – and kinda parasitic – beginnings of a plan he was crafting in his head in case of the event of his connection with Blue finally being cut off. 

As much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, investing in the Generals wasn’t just about satisfying his needs for social interaction or curiosity about Lotor.  It was also about worming his way into the team, just on the off-chance case that he no longer held a place with Team Voltron.

Space was cruel and he was safer with a group; regardless if it was Voltron or not.

Lotor didn’t respond, but that was okay.  Lance was talented with filling the air with babble until someone – in this case Lotor – decided to stop him and speak themselves.

“So… what’s your goal then, hero?”  Lance smiled what he hoped was a disarming smile, tilting his head lopsidedly into the sun.  He knew his best looks, and in the sunset, he knew he looked bomb AF. 

Lotor’s eyes narrowed fractionally.  “Stop calling me a hero.” Lotor finally spoke, and Lance’s smile at that nearly split his face.  It took him a moment to register the words, and once he did, he laughed, throwing his head back. 

Of all the things… _that_ was what was bothering Lotor enough to finally speak to him again?  Lance calling him a _hero_?!   But he was a hero.  He was a hero to Acxa, to Ezor, to Zethrid, and he was sure to Narti as well – although his interactions with her were very, very limited. 

But Zethrid said he was getting better with his Galran and Galran Sign Language, so hopefully that would be fixed soon. 

In any case, Lotor was a hero to this planet, to these people, to countless other people in the Empire.  He was a hero to enough people that they finally risked themselves after 10 thousand years of torment from Zarkon for him. 

“But you saved me.”  Lance argued, mentally adding in all the others that Lotor had saved.  “That makes you my _hero_.”

“Don’t be silly.”  Lotor shook his head.  “You would have been rescued eventually.  If not by me, then by your team.  It just benefited me to rescue you first.”

Lotor’s words delivered an accidental, but no less painful, blow to a festering wound.  It took all of Lance’s willpower to not overly respond to the hit, but he couldn’t help the pursing of his lips or the clenching of his fist.

Saved by his team… _eventually_.  And that was the key word there, wasn’t it?  Eventually.

He was lucky to have been rescued as soon as he was.  Relying on Voltron to rescue him would have seen him still in Zarkon’s Witch’s ‘care’.   At least with Lotor he was free to mostly roam around.  He was free to leave even, if he wanted. 

But he didn’t want to.  He was safer with a group, with Lotor.  Heck, he was beginning to question if he was safer with Lotor than with team Voltron.

How many times had he nearly died with Voltron?  Yeah, this was a war, and risks and almost-death happened in war, but still.  There was definitely something _reckless_ about Voltron.  He never should have been sent out on a mission alone.

None of them should have.  And now he was lost in space, away from his team.  Potentially on purpose. 

But he needed to focus on something else.  He was just beating a dead horse at this point with his thoughts about team Voltron. 

His mind latched onto the words Lotor just said.  He forced himself past the bit about his team rescuing him, and instead focused on the last bit.   _“It just benefited me to rescue you first.”_ That was, for all intents and purposes, an admittance to there being an ulterior motive to the rescue.

It might have started out as just ‘liberating’ whatever Haggar had been interested in – just like Lance had just started out befriending the Generals due to curiosity and his own sanity – but there was an ulterior motive to continue through with the rescue.   It was something Lance had wondered about, after all, Lotor surely had some idea as to what consequences rescuing Lance would bring.

So why risk it?

What motive could Lotor have?  He had been very focused on finding Voltron and returning Lance… which brought him back to his original thoughts of being a ‘good faith’ gift.  Or perhaps… a bargaining chip? 

For what though?  Forget ‘to be or not to be’, ‘for what’ was the real question here.

There was a tinge of pain through his connection to blue that sent a wave of dread through Lance.  It crashed into him like a tidal wave, but he had the feeling that this was just the beginning. 

He suddenly hated his gloves and the fact that they kept him from feeling the bite of his nails against his palm in his closed fist.  It would have been the perfect distraction.  He needed to leave, to find someplace where he could ride out the pain of his connection with Blue being slowly ripped apart.

Was this finally the end?  The last strands of his connection fraying and tearing?  Was it as painful for Blue as it was for him?

“Even if the motive was self-serving, the action itself was heroic, Lotor.”  Lance said, trying – and hopefully succeeding – to keep the pain from his voice.  Another wave of pain washed over him, a little stronger than before and Lance _knew_ he couldn’t stay and continue the conversation. 

He needed to leave, and so he did.  He said his piece, said what was important, and well, that would have to do for now. Although, he wasn’t walking away from this conversation empty handed.  He now knew Lotor to be more than what he had originally assumed. 

He turned his back on Lotor and walked away, and he would be lying if he said some small petty part of him didn’t take pleasuring in being the one to leave first for once.

He headed to his room, hoping to reach there before the worst of the connection breaking hit him.  However, his hope wasn’t enough to keep the pain at bay.  The waves continued to crash into him, increasing both in frequency and pain.  

He made it about half way to his room before the pain became too much.  His knees almost buckled as he clutched at his heart.  His whole body seemed to scream as he could feel his connection with Blue finally break away. 

The world spun around him, his vision fading in and out.  He took shallow breaths, grimacing through the pain of the sudden loss of connection to his lion.

Well, not _his_ lion anymore. 

It was inevitable.  He had known this moment would come, although he hoped it wouldn’t.  There had been no denying that his bond with Blue had been growing weaker.  The team _needed_ a Blue Paladin and he wasn’t there.  They needed to be able to form Voltron.  He bowed his head, willing the tears he could already feel slipping down his cheeks to vanish. 

Without Blue… without the Blue Lion… who was he anymore?  What importance did he hold? 

He really was ‘just a boy from Cuba’ now.  Nothing special about him. 

Lotor _just_ confirmed that Lance was only here for his usefulness; as something that benefitted Lotor.  Without his status as Blue Paladin… did he still benefit Lotor?  Was he still useful? 

He pushed himself off the wall he had fallen back against, and rushed to his room, half blinded with tears that wouldn’t stop.  Shaking, he curled himself up into a ball, muffling his crying by pressing his face into his pillow and knees. 

There was no comforting brush of Blue.  Nothing but himself, and he was hardly a comfort to himself.  His thoughts were the enemy, constantly pulling at him.  Questioning his purpose and usefulness.  Questioning his future. 

What would become of him now? 

He didn’t know, and that uncertainty tore at him more than Blue’s separation had.   It took the better part of the night, but by morning, Lance felt he cried enough to be able to think with a straight head.  He didn’t have much choice in what to do from here out, and by ‘not much choice’ he meant ‘no choice’. 

That realization chaffed at him, but there was absolutely nothing he could do about.

As his mama always said, ‘Have the courage to change the things you can, strength to accept the things you can’t, and wisdom to know the difference’.   Or something like that.

This was just one of those shit situations that couldn’t be helped, and what he needed to focus on were the facts.

Facts:

  1. Lotor saved him as some sort of ‘Good Faith’ gift or bargaining chip.
  2. That was due to his status as Blue Paladin.
  3. He was no longer the Blue Paladin.
  4. Lotor didn’t know that.



So where did that leave him? 

Deception was not typically Lance’s style, and a lie by omission was still a lie but…

Lance didn’t see many other options available to him.  He needed to endear himself to Lotor’s team.  He was already at least halfway there, but he needed to make himself _irreplaceable_.  He needed their _trust_ and _loyalty_.

He needed to join Lotor’s crew. 

If he joined, then even without his Blue Paladin status… Lotor should still protect him.  Like Acxa, he was left behind by his team.  But if he was useful enough… maybe he could stay.  If he couldn’t, then were would he go? 

What would he do?  What _could_ he do? A lone human out in the vastness of space. 

But there was hope for Lance with Lotor and his crew.  For as much loyalty as Lotor inspired, he tended to give back just as he received.  The strongest example Lance had found: his involvement in a civil war.  He didn’t want to be in the civil war, but because of the loyalty of the people of these planets, he was. 

If he didn’t have some shred of loyalty back to them, then he would have just abandoned the planets starting the war.  Just like he could have just thrown Lance away upon realizing that Voltron was harder to find than originally expected.

Lotor could have done some many things differently, but he hadn’t.  He hadn’t and that gave Lance so many little glimpses into the type of person Lotor really was.  And so far, Lance liked what he was seeing… but more importantly, Lance saw an opportunity. 

Lotor seemed to value judgement through actions, which was something Lance could definitely respect.  If only because that meant that if Lance could prove himself through action to Lotor and his team, then perhaps he had a shot at staying. 

At least, until Voltron could be found, and he could return safely back into their fold. 

Someone knocked on the door, and Lance jumped; his heart beat loudly in his ears, a constant drone of the resurgence of his panic and fear.  Lance took a deep breath and cleared his throat.  “Not up yet.”  He called out shakily. 

He needed to get himself back under control before he faced any of the people outside that door.  He just needed a moment. 

 “Well, hurry up.  I’ll be waiting on the training ground.” Ezor informed him though some giggles. 

Lance sighed and ran a hand down his face.  His morning session with Ezor was going to suck today, big time.  He sighed, again, and nodded to himself.  This wasn’t the first time he had stayed up all night, and this probably wouldn’t be his last either.  Hunk, he knew, would notice, but Hunk wasn’t here, and hopefully he would be able to put on enough of an act to fool Lotor’s team that he was fine. 

He uncurled, stretching until his limbs popped and his back cracked.  He shuffled, grabbing various little things in his room before making his way towards his destination.  In the bathroom, he grimaced at his reflection before splashing water on his face. 

The day was going to suck, and it was only getting started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come talk to me on my [Tumblr](https://star-gazing-knight.tumblr.com/)!


	3. Chapter 3

When Lance was younger, he used to get a bunch of flak from other guys for taking dance.  It was something that people would laugh about behind Lance’s back.   They would point at him and whisper about whether or not he was gay, if he thought he was a girl. 

There was one vivid memory where his classroom was split into groups for a project.  The teacher either hadn’t cared or noticed that the groups were finely divided between the boys and girls.  All the girls whispered and giggled behind hands, their eyes alit with the horrible terrible delight their cruelty gave them.   Boys were disgusting and were not welcome with them.  It wasn’t much better among the boys. 

Every group of boys that Lance tried to join, they turned their noses up at him, sneering at him to go pick a group with the ‘girls’. 

He wondered if those boys would still mock him today if they could see what those dancing classes did for Lance now. 

He spun around, careful not to get dizzy or trip over his own feet, as he dodged an attack and shot off one of his own in retaliation.  The mock battle sentry went down easily.  Another fired a shot at Lance, or more accurately, where Lance last was.  He ducked down into a roll before springing back up in a couch behind cover. 

He took a breath and peeked out from his cover to see if he was able to take a shot and didn’t hesitate to take it when he saw he had one. Then he was moving again. 

The key and trick, he discovered, was to be quick, fast, and most importantly: to keep moving.  And _that_ was where his time in dance came in handy.  Dancing kept him light on his feet.  It taught him flexibility and agility.  He wasn’t avoiding being hit so much as dancing through the battlefield. 

An improv ballet to the symphony of battle. 

Of course, his best skills still laid with taking the time to get the good shots, but in this battle simulation, he couldn’t afford that luxury.   The point was hit – and take out – as many targets as possible while constantly moving and not getting hit.

This was the first time in a while that Lance actually felt confident in his chances of completing Acxa’s challenge successfully. 

Everything was finally starting to look up for him.  True, he lost Blue – and with her any hope that his team was still looking for him – and the leverage the position of being her Paladin granted him.  But, he was steadily worming his way into Lotor’s ranks and making himself a place there.

And once he found out how Acxa met and joined Lotor, Lance could see if that information could help him out any with his plans. 

He already knew he had Lotor’s attention.  They danced around each other, constantly aware of each other’s presence, constantly reassessing the other.  Lotor stayed back, lingering in the doorways and balconies, watching quietly with narrowed eyes; but Lance still saw him, still felt his gaze on him.

It felt electric through Lance’s veins, pushing him to prove himself, to be better.  If he could prove himself to Lotor then he could probably stay, and to do that, he needed to get better.

Of course, he pretended not to notice Lotor’s gaze on him. 

Lance imagined it was part of a game they were playing.  It was a dangerous game, of that Lance was keenly aware.  Every moment he spent with the generals, the more he realized how outclassed he was among them.

They could all kill him two hundred ways with just their pinkies without thinking, and Lance? Lance would be helpless to stop them.  

However, the fugitive looks that he noticed from Lotor’s generals – and even some of the people in the city – gave him hope that his plan would somehow succeed.  He just needed to keep up with what he was doing: endearing himself to Lotor and his team. 

It wasn’t like he was being a complete leach.  He would be more than happy to offer his services as payment. 

And speaking of services… there were few enough sentries that Lance could finally start to take a bit more time with his shots.  He lined one up with a sentry and took it out a moment later, and then another almost immediately after. 

He did a quick tally in his head and frowned before scanning the field. 

He was missing one, wasn’t he? 

His only warning was the whirling sound of an energy weapon getting ready to fire, and he threw himself to the side, curling into a dodge roll.  He sprung out of the roll and pivoted.  Time almost seemed to slow down for him as he pulled up his blaster and fired it.

 The buzzer went off, signaling the end of the exercise.  Lance’s heart felt like a jackrabbit caged in his chest, adrenaline still running through his veins despite being assured he was finished.  Over by the observation deck, Acxa clapped her hands slowly; bringing his attention to her.

He stood and holstered the blaster before heading over to her. 

“I’d still win a fight.”  Acxa immediately teased, her eyes glimmering with an emotion Lance thought have been pride.  “But at least you’ll be more a challenge to take down than you were before.”  She playfully smacked his upper arm with the back of her hand. 

“I could still hit a mark more distant that you could any day.”  Lance replied, sticking out his tongue.  She rolled her eyes and rested a hand on her hip.  “But I think Ezor’s ‘fights’ and your advice helped.  Thank you.”

“It was entertaining watching you grow.”  Acxa’s smile was probably the softest Lance had ever seen it be – at least while directed at him. 

“Oh, I see, that’s all I am: entertainment.”

“Quite.  Ezor found old recordings of ‘The Voltron Show’, _Loverboy_.”  Her soft smile turned wicked as Lance groaned at the reminder of the shows.  At the time, they had been fun to do and right up Lance’s alley.  He wouldn’t say that he regretted them, but… he did wish his new potential team hadn’t seen them. 

“The ribbon dancing was… fascinating.  _Lotor_ seemed particular _interested_ …”  She trailed off and turned away, but she remained watching him out of the corner of her eye.  There was an implication in her tone and words that had Lance’s face and ears heating up.  He turned away and rubbed awkwardly at the back of his head.

“Uh…” _Lotor_ was interested in his Aerial Silk performance?! He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to take that.  Should he be flattered?  Concerned?  He didn’t know, but he did know that he didn’t care for the weird twisted feeling in his gut at the idea of _Lotor_ being _interested_ in Lance’s aerial silk skills.  It brought to mind ideas about demonstrating it live and just… no.  He did not need to be thinking that or going there.  Certainly not.  And it wasn’t that he had a _crush_ on Lotor. 

Oh no.  He didn’t!  Lotor was pretty and apparently a good person buried under layers and Lance’s legitimate _hero_ and rescuer and general Prince Charming… But if all went to plan, he was about to be Lance’s boss.

Lance was about ninety percent certain that in-team relationships never ended well.  Besides, Lotor was a _prince_.  An exiled, dishonored, disinherited, and disowned prince; but still a prince.

“Mm, he wondered if all humans were that… _flexible_.”  Acxa continued.  She turned back to him again and smiled before reaching out to pat him gently on the cheek.  “Calm down, I’m only teasing.”

Disappointed flooded Lance like a water in a sinking ship; sudden and surprising.  He shuffled, suddenly uneasy with the turn his emotions were taking.  He tried to remind himself that he was sort of using Lotor, but then again, Lotor was _using_ him too.

Everyone used each other.  Teams were just temporarily alliances where there was a mutual benefit of being used by each other. Like Acxa said, he could hope with a team, but he didn’t need to wonder about himself. 

“Right.”  Lance nodded.  “Sorry, I didn’t think anyone here had seen those videos.”

“You may want to avoid Ezor for a few quintants.”  Acxa advised him with a half laugh.

“Thanks for the heads up, but don’t think that gets you out of explaining how you met Lotor.”  Lance crossed his arms. 

Acxa’s smile completely dropped, and once more she wrapped her arms around herself.  “You know most of it.”  She said. “After the Blade of Marmora, I met Lotor.  We both needed something from each other, and I’ve never regretted joining with him.” 

Well, that situation mirrored Lance’s more than he thought it would.  He swallowed thickly and cleared his throat.  “It sounds like you trust him.”

“I do.”  Acxa nodded.  “Lotor rarely lies.  Misdirects and omits information plenty, but rarely does he fail to keep his word once he’s given it.” 

“You said you don’t trust a team to have your back.” Lance pointed out.

“And I don’t.  On the battlefield, I can hope someone will look out for me, but I know I can rely on myself.”  Acxa agreed.  Lance was going to say something, but she held up her hand to silence him.  “First, Lotor isn’t a team.  He’s a singular person.  Second, I’m not trusting him to watch my back during a fight.  Different principals, Lance.”

“You trust him to stick to what he said he would do.”  Lance realized.  “Alright.. but what about when he doesn’t need you anymore?  Or if you don’t need him anymore?”

“I don’t need him anymore.”  Acxa replied levelly, arching an eyebrow.   “I chose to stay with him, and he chooses to keep me around.”

“You can leave at any time.”  Lance realized, once more mirroring his situation.  Except, he needed to stay with Lotor for help, safety, and protection.  And Lotor needed him to stay for… whatever he needed Lance for.  Acxa wasn’t bound by this, so… “But then, why don’t you?”  Some part of him realized that he was perhaps being insensitive, but he was genuinely curious. 

“Why should I?”  Acxa questioned.  “I see no reason to leave.”  She sighed softly, her eyes softening as she looked at Lance.  She reached out and put her hand on Lance’s shoulder.  “I’m sure your team will come pick you up soon.  From what I’ve heard and seen, they’re nothing like the Blade of Marmora was to me.” 

Lance’s mouth dropped open a bit, mirroring the dropping heavy pit in his stomach.  “Yeah.”  He nodded.  “Of course.  I’m sure they’re still looking for me.”  Lance lied, adverting his gaze. 

He was tempted to tell her.  To spill out how he was no longer the Blue Paladin, how Shiro had been acting strange ever since they found him again, how Lance was 90% certain that _Shiro had set him up to be captured._   His hand curled into a fist as he kept his silence.

He had no proof beyond an empty datachip.  Nothing to prove his theories as true, and he may have been in space, but that didn’t change ‘innocent until proven guilty’. 

“I’m happy Lotor was there for you, Acxa.”  Lance told her.  She smiled at him and patted his shoulder. 

“He takes care of those who help him.”  She told him seriously.

~

Lance was running down the corridor.  He didn’t know which corridor he was in.  He didn’t know where he was.  “Shiro?!”  He called out through the communicator in a hushed whisper.  “Shiro?!  I need help.”  Nothing but static replied, but he swore that in it, he could hear the laughter of the Galra.

The floor fell out beneath him as he turned the corner.  His scream was soundless as the air whipping past him stole his voice.  The darkness enclosed around him absorbing any sound that the air missed. 

He didn’t know when he stopped falling, but suddenly he was strapped down to a table with a circle of glowing yellow eyes staring down at him.  A bright spotlight shone down on him a moment later, nearly blinding him. 

“The Blue Paladin.”  A faceless, nameless hooded figure crooned, leaning down to breath rancid breath into his face.  A claw ran down his face.  “The Champion was the best specimen we’ve had, but we will make do with you.”  It whispered to him.

“No, no, no.” Lance struggled against the straps holding him down to the table while the figure laughed. 

“Didn’t you want to be just like me when you grew up, Lance?”  The figure asked as it pulled back it’s hood and removed a mask to reveal a grinning yellow-eyed Shiro.  “When we’re done with you, you’ll be just like _one of us_.”

“ ** _Wake up_**.”

Lance started, his heart beating so fast and hard, he swore he could hear it pounding in his ears with the echo of the shadowy whispered, ‘wake up’.  Directly above him, a blank face ‘stared’ down at him – at least stared as much as a face with no eyes could.  Pressure was lifted off his shoulder, and he glanced to see Narti removing her hand.

He sat up and watched as she moved her hands, signing out something to Lance in sharp definitive movements – a clear indication that she meant her ‘words’ as a statement rather than a question.  What she said, however, was lost on Lance. 

He blinked and shook his head, hoping that would clear the fog of waking up from his head.  “Uh, could you please… repeat that?”

She repeated the signs, slower and more deliberate this time for him.  Thankfully, it seemed his lessons with Zethrid were actually paying off.   “You had a nightmare.  I woke you.”

Lance blinked, and glanced around, only just now noticing that he was in the common area of the space allowed for Lotor, his generals, and Lance.  He returned his gaze back to Narti and smiled weakly.  “Thanks, I guess. I didn’t mean to fall asleep out here.” 

“The nightmares are common?” She continued to sign slowly for him, carefully enunciating – or whatever the equivalent was for sign language – her signs.  This time there was a deliberate hesitancy in her movements which clued Lance in to her asking a question.

Normally facial expressions were used to set the tone, but considering Narti’s lack of facial features, she tended to use other methods to set her tone.  Or so Zethrid said.  This was his first real time talking with Narti. 

Lance didn’t really know how to respond as he didn’t want to admit that the nightmares were as common as they were.  It wasn’t like he had them every night, but they were changing.  They started out as his failed mission, but since his break with Blue, they had become… personal. 

The cat that always seemed to hang around her jumped into his lap as she gently touched his shoulder to get his attention.  He scratched Kova – he was ninety percent certain that was his name – behind the ear before looking at her.  

She signed out some more words, and Lance furrowed his eyebrows.  He was pretty sure based on context she was saying ‘narrowly’ and there was another word he didn’t quite understand.   Something about him narrowly escaping… _something_. 

He stopped scratching Kova to repeat the gesture.  “What’s this mean?”

“D-r-u-i-d-s.” She spelled out for him.

Ah, so she said that he narrowly escaped the Druids.  The hair at the back of his neck bristled, and he thought to his dream and the masked hooded figures.  He had seen them before, he was sure.  On a mission with Voltron.  Keith might have fought one of them or something.

Keith was always fighting something. 

“Anytime spent with them is a nightmare.”  Narti signed out carefully and hesitantly.  Not like how when she asked a question, but more like she was cautiously volunteering information.  She made a sign that looked like the Galra sign for ‘Z’ combined with the sign for ‘strong’ – the name sign Zethrid had shown him for herself. 

“Zethrid says you’ve been asking how we met Lotor.”  Lotor’s name sign always made Lance want to giggle, considering on Earth it was the symbol of being a ‘loser’ held up against a forehead. Which totally didn’t bring to mind a certain song. 

“Ezor still hasn’t told me.”  Lance informed her.  In his lap, Kova meowed, complaining at the lack of pets Lance was giving him.  He started to purr once Lance resumed petting him.  Narti’s tale thumped against the ground.  “I have to win a fight.” He sighed. 

“Ezor is trying to motivate you.”  Narti signed to him, pointing to a blank spot in the room for ‘Ezor’ to be.  Anytime she would mention Ezor further, she would just need to point to that spot.  “She wants you to be better.” 

“Better?”  Lance asked while repeating the gesture to make sure he understood correctly.  Narti nodded.    “Why does she care?  Why do any of you care?”

Narti shrugged. “Hard to say.”  She replied a moment later.  “Why do you want to know how Lotor met us?”

Lance nodded solemnly.  “I was just curious…” 

Narti looked away – or at least moved her head so she appeared to be looking away.  He wasn’t sure how she ‘saw’ considering her lack of eyes, but he wasn’t really going to questioning it.  Kova headbutted against his hand, demanding more pets. 

He sat there quietly for a moment with Narti, petting Kova.  After a couple of moments, she tapped his shoulder again to get his attention.  “He was a gift from Lotor,” She pointed at Kova to indicate who ‘he’ was.  Lance blinked down at the cat, who stared up at him with wide luminous eyes.  

“I didn’t take Lotor to be cat person.”  Lance commented lightly.  Kova meowed as Narti thumped her tail against the ground.  

“There is more to us than you may originally assume.”  Narti informed him.  He couldn’t be a hundred percent sure as he wasn’t fluent in Narti for tone, but he thought she might have been scolding him, or at the least, speaking sternly to him.  “You are not alone in fearing the Druids.” 

“Do you dream of them too?” Lance asked. 

“Too?” Narti repeated.  “So, you _do_ dream of them.” 

Lance flushed and looked down at Kova.  He scratched behind his ear and Kova swiped at his hand with his paw gently before giving him a warning bite.  Lance sighed and dropped his hand.  “I never said I didn’t…”

The silence lingering between them now wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t comfortable either.  It was just kind of _there_.  Lance hated it.

She tapped his shoulder to get his attention again.  “You don’t need our pasts to know us.”  Still, Lance got the distinct impression that she was scolding him.  Lance huffed quietly.  “Your team will be here for you soon.”  She added on. 

Well, that just soiled the entire conversation.  It left a bitter and sour taste at the back of Lance’s mouth.  He picked up Kova and put off to the side on the sofa before standing up and taking a couple steps away. 

“Yeah, I’m sure.”  Lance commented.  “I’m going to go see if Ezor’s up for another fight… it was good talking with you.”  He told her from over his shoulder before exiting the room. 

He knew she didn’t actually have eyes to watch him, but he still swore he could feel the weight of her gaze as he left. 

~

Lance was completely quiet, subtly adjusting his hold on the weapon in his hands.  Lotor’s generals might have been helping him with various other skills but he knew his true talents laid with this.  He breathed out shallowly and squeezed the trigger. 

He hummed as he reviewed the shot, taking note that he was a hair to the right more than he would have liked.  He would have to account for that the next time he used this firearm. 

Amid the morning workouts with Ezor, the daily Galran lessons with Zethrid, and the battle simulations with Acxa, it was nice sometimes to just take a moment and relax with this.

Besides, if he wanted to keep up his skill he needed to a) practice and b) get familiar with the firearms available.  He didn’t have his bayard anymore to take the form best suited for what he needed.  Which was a pain, but something he would just have to deal with.

The bayard was a perk of being a Paladin, and he was not a Paladin anymore. Besides, he imagined who ever replaced him would need it more – if they found it. 

He closed the screen with his results and was debating if he wanted to continue with this rifle, try a new one, or just call it a day when he saw Axca and Ezor pass by.  He sighed and glanced at the shooting range, the rifle in his hands, and then the direction the girls had gone.

He should leave them be.  He knew he should.  Especially since it looked like they were heading towards the leader houses where Lotor sometimes held strategy meetings until a proper headquarters could be secured. 

Lance would know as he used to hang around the houses hoping that he would overhear something that would help him.  It didn’t take long for him to realize his attempts to be useless, and after Blue’s… disconnect… he just didn’t see a reason to continue the habit.

He had other things to do, like practice the battle simulations for Acxa’s challenge to get better, or to go work out for the variety of exercises – the chase/race included – Ezor put him through, or study Galra to practice with Zethrid and Narti later. 

But they had looked… troubled, and since when was Lance one to leave something like that alone? 

He knew Lotor’s generals were having issues with something recently, but Lance didn’t know what exactly. He wasn’t sure he could offer any assistance – after all, he was sure anything he could suggest would have already been suggested by one of the others – but maybe he could help somehow?

He returned the rifle to the shooting range’s attendant with a quick “Thanks,” before heading off to find Lotor’s generals. 

They weren’t far from him, heading as he had suspected to one of the leader houses.  He hesitated, slowing down as doubt caught up with him.

What could he offer?  How could he help?  They were all helping _him_. 

Rarely were his ideas taken into consideration with team Voltron, not that he really had much of need to suggest anything.  Between Pidge, Shiro, and Allura strategies were completely covered.  Sure, when paired up Lance was sometimes the strategist, but that was a rare occasion and usually with Keith.

He didn’t know why he expected anything to be different here.  He wasn’t even part of the team no matter how hard he tried to worm his way in.   He was still just a kid from Cuba, lost in space in his worn Paladin Armor that no longer stood for anything.  He sighed as he slowed to a stop, his shoulders slumping. 

He had better things to do than to try to worm his way into a meeting he wasn’t invited to attend to give opinions that weren’t wanted.

~

Lance was beginning to hate his nightmares. 

No.  No, it was past the point of _beginning_ to hate his nightmares.  He did hate them.  He hated how they always seemed to highlight everything that was wrong – with himself, with his team, with his situation. 

He sighed as he slumped against the table, pushing his cup of space coffee out of his way as he did so. 

He was woken from his haze state an underminable time later by the thump of something being put down on the table.  Blearily, he raised his head and blinked at the faceless form of Narti and then at the clock in the ‘kitchen’ of the area they were all staying in. 

Not so underminable for the time after all then.  He’d been there for a about a varga.  No wonder the cup in his hands wasn’t warm anymore. 

He groaned as a greeting and then dropped his head back onto the table. 

Kova jumped up on the table and smacked Lance’s head with his tail.  Narti reached out and tapped Lance’s hand. 

After the third repetition, Lance looked back up.  “What.”  She pointed at the object she had put on the table in the first place and Lance blinked at it for a good full dobash.  “Is that… a board game?”  He asked.

There was no response and it took Lance an embarrassingly long time to realize it was because he wasn’t looking at her.  His face flushed as he did so.  She signed “yes,” before taking a seat across from him and opening up the box. 

“Sometimes it helps to keep the mind off the nightmares.”  Narti explained after taking out the board.  It honestly almost looked like chess.  At least, the board did.  Was she suggesting he play _chess_ to distract himself from his dreams?

Well, he was at least interested.  He rolled his shoulders as he sat up, alternating between eyeing the board and Narti.  “So, you’d play this game after your nightmares?”  He asked after a moment. 

Narti took a moment to reply, but when she finally did, it was with an answer Lance didn’t entirely expect.  Although, in hindsight, he should have. 

“With Lotor.”  Narti replied.  Lance blinked in surprise, suddenly a whole lot more interested in the game than he had been before.   Then again, he shouldn’t have been surprised about anything with Lotor now.  She slid over a small booklet over to him.  He glanced down at it to see that it was – of course – written in Galran.  He sighed.

“Good thing I’ve been keeping up with my studies.” He muttered as he started to read over the ‘quick rules’.

~

Lance added playing the stupid game of Kishet to his apparently ever-growing list of activities he did with the various generals.

Although, he did owe Narti – it was easier to avoid his nightmares when his dreams had been taken over by Kishet strategies.  Kishet, Lance discovered, was like weird strange combination of Risk, chess, and checkers. 

Narti was a pretty good teacher too, especially when she took the time to explain how and why she was able to trounce Lance in the game. 

“If you think I’m good, you should play Lotor.”  She teased him after one particularly brutal session, and Lance resolved to never play against Lotor if he could help it. 

~

Lance whistled as he spun around the new ‘headquarters’ for Lotor’s alliance in the Civil War.  It was nice compared to the cramp leader houses, and he was sure the leaders were happy to have their places back. 

“You sure it’s a good idea to show me this place?” Lance asked, looking over his shoulder at the Prince and his generals.  Lotor looked pointedly away, waving his hand in a dismissive manner. 

“I fail to see why not.”

“Because Voltron isn’t your ally.” Lance replied.  His separation from Blue still stung, but it was getting easier and easier to accept it each day.  Just like it was getting easier and easier to pretend he was still a Paladin of Voltron. 

“But you are.”  Acxa replied for Lotor, walking around to lean back against one of the counters and cross her legs.  She pursed her lips as she looked Lance over.  He ignored the sensation of spiders crawling over his skin produced by her stare, and instead focused on the room.  

He supposed he was an ally.  Or at the very least, he wanted to be.  He wanted to be more than allies, if he was honest, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.  Although he did wonder if that assessment would change once the truth about his status as a Paladin came out. 

“Besides, you stay with us, and we’re staying here now.” Ezor chipped.  “I can show you your room if you’d like?”

“So, you guys can have your super-secret strategy meeting?” Lance asked, resting his hand on his hip as he arched an eyebrow. 

“Heh.”  Zethrid laughed.  “Got us all figured out, don’t cha?”

“Zethrid!”  Acxa scolded her. 

Narti breezed behind Zethrid to approach Lotor.  She touched his shoulder to get his attention and then stepped so that his body hid her signs from the rest of the room.

Ezor flushed a little as her eyes widened just the tiniest amount.  “Well, I just thought-”

“No, no.  It’s cool, I get it.”  Lance smiled.  “I’m the one who just said Voltron wasn’t an ally, so why would I be invited?” 

“You may stay for the meeting if you would like.”  Lotor interrupted before anyone else could say anything.  The effect of his words was instantaneous as everyone in the room – bar Narti and Lotor, himself – jerked around to look at him. 

Of all the things Lance expected for Lotor to say, this was not one of them.  An invitation to join a strategy meeting?  He doubted he could bring anything to the table, but it seemed rude to reject the offer.

He didn’t want to throw his _host’s_ generosity back in his face. 

“Sir?”  Acxa asked hesitantly. 

“He may stay, if he wishes.” Lotor repeated, leveling a look at her.  He took a seat in a chair that more than just a little ornate and gestured dismissively at the large holoscreen table in the middle of the room.  “Shall we get started?”

The entire room remained frozen until Lance stepped up to the table.  Hesitantly, one by one, Narti, Acxa, Ezor and Zethrid joined him at the table.  Acxa pressed a couple buttons and the holotable came to life, starting off with a territory map of the Empire before she zoomed in on the system they were in.

Little data windows full of information popped up, and Lance furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to decipher the Galra written there.  It was in a dialect that he and Zethrid had only barely touched. 

Lotor’s gaze was firmly on the holotable, but Lance felt uncomfortably like the prince was still watching him. 

Acxa started to explain the map – probably for his benefit more than anything – and going into more detail than the little data boxes.   The system was in the Empire’s clutches under Sub-Commander Ylek, despite the cluster of planets where Lotor’s alliance stood. 

Lance’s gaze darted around the map as he took note of the various colors and ‘territory lines’ and positions.  The whole scenario was familiar of Age of Empire or Empire Earth or… Risk.  Lance’s looked up at Narti, but as per usual, she gave nothing away. 

She must have said something to Lotor to allow him to stay… but why?

By the time the meeting came to an end, Lance found he had more questions than answers.

~

“Since you’ll be sitting in with us on our meetings, I figure it’s time to add The Daibazaalan Dialect to your lessons.”  Zethrid informed him as she took a seat at the kitchen table. 

Lance hummed and scrolled on his data pad.  “Hey!” Lance protested as Zethrid reached out and took it from his hands, frowning at him until she turned it around to read what had him so interested.

“You’ve already started on Daibazaalan?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.  Lance cleared his throat and snatched back the tablet.

“It’s not that different from Murian, minus like ten character-letters.”  Lance shrugged.  “It wasn’t that hard to get the hang of reading it once I figured out the similarity between the dialects.  It’s like the different versions of the same language.  Like how Spain Spanish is different from Mexican Spanish.” 

“What?”

“Earth languages.” Lance informed her.  “We have well over 3000 different languages that people speak, and that’s including the variations a language could have based on culture or region.” 

At least, he thought it was about 3000.  Was it less now since Earth started the whole unified government after the last world war?  It’d been too long since Lance’s history, government, and economics classes. 

“Over three thou… How many can _you_ speak?”

“Uh, a few?”  Lance shrugged.  “Do you mean fluently or conversationally?  Doesn’t matter, not three thousand.  I don’t think there’s anyone who can speak that many languages.  World record was for like Sixty.” 

“Sixty.”  Zethrid repeated incredulously.   “Out of three thousand?”

Lance could understand why she felt and sounded like that.  Sixty out of three thousand was kind of underwhelming, but when one considered the complexity and stupidity of Earth languages, he thought it was pretty impressive. 

Not to mention the limitations of the human mind. 

“Hey, learn English fluently and then come back with that ‘better-than-thou’ attitude.” Lance shot back.  “Shit’s hard even for people who are born speaking it.” 

“…Right.” Zethrid nodded slowly, sounding not entirely convinced.

“Anyways, I’m like, ninety percent certain that Diabazaalan is either the base language for Murian or that they share a root language.  Like the Romance Languages on Earth, not that you get that reference.  But now that I’ve figured that out… it’s actually kind of simple?”

Lance shrugged.  “Anyways I’m having issues with conjugating though.”  He slid the tablet over to Zethrid and pointed a segment.  “Could you explain why this is _this,”_ he tapped the segment and then pointed a different section “and not _this_?”

~

“This is suicide.”  Lance pointed at the holomap as he glowered up at Zethrid. 

Each of Lotor’s generals had vastly different approaches to strategy.  Zethrid reminded Lance a lot of Keith in the aspect that she just wanted to go in and wreck shit.  Yeah, Keith had gotten _better_ about that, but he was still more known to run in than to sit back and strategize.

He was a man of action, and strategizing and planning attacks was _not_ action.

That was left for Shiro or Allura or anyone else. 

Zethrid just wanted violence.  The bloodier the battle, the better.  The stronger the opponent, the more the honor.   She could strategize when needed, but a majority of her strategies required ‘storming’ the field.

Lotor didn’t have the people or resources for that, and Sub-Commander Ylek had the support and resources of the Empire on his side.

“It’s our best solution.” Zethrid growled out. 

“Sub-Commander Ylek needs to be take care of.”  Ezor added.  She nibbled on her lower lip.  “His slave trade can’t continue, and his very presence threatens our prince.”  She glanced at Lotor quickly and then at Lance.

“There’s no doubt of that.”  Lance agreed.  “Slavery is monstrous.” 

“So, then it’s decided that we’ll go with this plan.” Zethrid stated, crossing her arms. 

Lance shook his head.  “No.  No, there has to be another way to take care of this.  Sub-Commander Ylek needs to be taken out, I agree, but it needs to be done in a way that doesn’t lose Lotor the trust and faith of the people through pointless loss of life.” 

That last line seemed to get at least Acxa’s attention as her whole body twitched, like she heard some sort of buzz word or something before staring at Lance.  He noted the reaction faintly, but was more concerned with other things.

“This isn’t a pointless loss of life.  It’s ridding the system of a tyrant and a threat.  For Victory or Death.” Zethrid argued. 

“Is the Empire’s way, and unless I’ve been led astray, that doesn’t seem to be Lotor’s.”  Lance continued off of Zethrid’s statement.  He glanced at the map and all of its statistical facts again, not that he needed to.  He had practically memorized it from staring at it so long.  

There had to be another way to deal with the Sub-Commander.   “I need more information on him.  What planets does he visit, where does he sta--”

“You’re talking assassination.”  Acxa cut in, narrowing her eyes.  She shook her head.  “He cannot be dealt with quietly in a back room, nor would anyone be able to get close enough for the job.”

Back room?  Oh no, Lance wasn’t sure he could manage or pull that off – Keith maybe… but not him.  He tapped the table with his index finger as he shook his head.  “No.  Not like that.  I don’t need to be close to take him out.”

“You’re suggesting a public execution then?” Acxa asked.  “How is that different from Zethrid’s idea?”

“A public execution would bolster the people.”  Ezor said.  Her arms were crossed, and she swayed slightly while looking down at the map. “And loosen any faith or trust they have in the Empire’s ‘protection’.” 

“No one believes in that.” Lance cut in, shaking his head.  “When I worked with Voltron, every planet we came across that had been touched by the Galra Empire longed for liberation.  If we cut off the head – Sub-Commander Ylek – a power vacuum will be created, scrambling the Galra forces… giving _us_ the opening we need to take this system completely.”

“Exactly.  We need to kill Sub-Commander Ylek.”  Zethrid growled. 

“But not this way!” Lance said, gesturing wildly at the board.  He glanced over at Lotor and… was he… distracted?  Well, Lance knew exactly what to do there.

He flashed his finger guns and grinned as he called out “Lotor agrees with me, don’t cha?”

And just like he expected, Lotor started, blinking at him. 

“Of course.”

Ah yes, some ‘human’ tendencies truly did seem to be universal.  Like agreeing to things due to being called out when being distracted.  Regardless of how he got it, a win was a win, and he crowed as he turned to Zethrid.

“Ha, see?!”  Lance continued to grin.  Zethrid narrowed her eyes at him, but Lance wasn’t scared.  Well, he was, but he was fairly certain that he could outrun her now, thanks to his pre-fight jogs with Ezor.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement from Ezor and Acxa, and he turned to face Axca just as she started to speak.

“I imagine you’ll explain once you have more information?” She asked, bringing them all back on topic.  At Lance’s nod, she hummed and looked to Ezor.  “Get the information Lance needs.  We’ll reconvene in a movement to discuss further which plan of action to take.”  

~

In preparation for what Lance certain would be his moment of truth to the team, Lance spent nearly all of his free time at the range, becoming well acquainted with the rifles available.

If luck was in favor, then he would be able to quickly and quietly take care of this guy.  Well, as quietly as a public execution via sniping could be. 

There was some part of him – a large part of him – that was beyond nervous about this.  He had the scores and training to back him on this, but he had only needed this level of skill once before: when saving Slav at Beta Traz.  Well, twice before if one counted him shooting Sendak’s arm – but he didn’t count that.

He would be killing a person, JFK style.  But the Galra Sub-Commander had it coming.  He was a vile slave trader and tyrant.  But he was still a living person that Lance would be… killing.

He put down the rifle and shook his head, returning it back to the area’s attendant. 

Normally this helped clear his head, but it just wasn’t working out for him this time.  He needed something else.  Maybe a game of Kishet with Narti would help him?

~

Kishet didn’t help as much as he hoped it would, and neither did a jog around the town.  Of course, the jog around town added more for him to be concerned about.

There had been whispers and comments about seeing Voltron only a few systems away.  Voltron, as in the robot. Voltron, as in all five lions.  Which meant that now everyone knew – or would soon know – that Lance was no longer the Blue Paladin.

It would only be a matter of time until Lotor showed up to talk to him. 

Dreading the inevitable, Lance took to one of the small alcoves in the new headquarters that had a view of the sky and stars.  Of course, he wasn’t there long before he heard the quiet footsteps he knew to belong to Lotor.

He just couldn’t imagine one of the other generals approaching him first.  Not with something like this.

He had hoped to secure his place more firmly with Lotor’s team before they found out, but he supposed it was too late for that. 

“Guess I’m no more use to you as a bargaining chip anymore.”  Lance commented idly. 

Lotor was quiet long enough that Lance began to doubt that it was truly Lotor there at all, but before he could work up the nerves to look, Lotor finally responded.

“So, you’ve known?”

“That I’ve been replaced?” Lance asked, despite knowing that wasn’t what Lotor meant.  “Yeah, I knew.”  He exhaled sharply.  “Or were you referring to the bargaining chip plan?”

“Both.”  Well, it was nice of Lotor to not try to deny the whole bargaining chip thing.  Not that it would have worked considering Lance was still pretty sure that Shiro had planned for him to get caught.  “But this works in my favor.” 

But the last bit Lotor added on was a funny little joke.  Lance laughed bitterly at it and shook his head.  “How so?” He questioned.  “I’m useless to you.”

He wasn’t as talented in battle as Axca, or as nimble as Ezor, or as strong as Zethrid or Narti.  He couldn’t kill someone with his pinkie in two thousand different ways like any of Lotor’s generals.  He wasn’t even all that good at strategy.

“Is that what you think?”

Lance shrugged but kept quiet on the matter.  Which he supposed was telling enough. 

“When did you know?” Lotor asked.  “About being replaced.” He added on a moment later to clarify.

Lance honestly couldn’t have told Lotor when exactly he found out.  So, he offered his best estimate of, “A while back.”   He sighed and continued “I felt Blue sever the connection between us, and it only made sense that I’d been replaced.”

“Lance.”  Lance heard Lotor step closer and then there was the gentle pressure of his hand against his shoulder.  He held his breath, waiting to hear Lotor’s verdict.  Would he be cast out and rejected for his uselessness, or would Lotor take pity on him?  

He felt pressure build up behind his eyes, and he forced himself not to blink, not to cry.  He wouldn’t cry.  Not for this, not anymore, not ever.  “This actually saves me the trouble of trying to bargain your continued presence on my team.”

The continuation Lotor gave him was so unexpected that Lance looked up away from the stars to confusedly stare at Lotor.  He felt a tear slip down his cheek and he cursed himself until Lotor leaned down to brush it away. 

He smiled at Lance, softly and sweetly, the starlight reflecting off his hair nearly making it appear as if it were glowing.  Lance’s mouth felt dry, both at how pretty Lotor could be, and how _kind_ he was. 

“Come now, let’s go get you a uniform.”  Lotor said, taking one of Lance’s hands and pulling him – gently like Lance could be broken in his hands like fragile glass, like Lance was delicate and precious – to his feet.  “You’re one of us now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come talk to me on my [Tumblr](https://star-gazing-knight.tumblr.com/)!


	4. Chapter 4

Lance inspected himself in the mirror, twisting and turning as he looked at himself.  After so long of wearing the Paladin armor, it felt almost surreal to be in someone else’s colors.  To be sporting different armor. 

The very first thing Lance noticed was how much lighter it felt.   There were advances in armor and technology over the ten thousand years since the Paladin armor was last used, so he supposed that made sense, but it was still strange for Lance.

He felt almost naked without the weight of the Paladin armor.  But weight didn’t equal more protection, and honestly… he kinda really liked this outfit.

Style-wise, this armor looked hella good.  Dark colors tended to work well on a lot of people, and it was extra slimming.  The orange was a bit ostentatious, but it worked really well with the blueish purple as ascents. 

In honesty, Lance would probably choose this armor over the Paladin armor any day if he had a choice.  In terms of what the armors stood for, however, the jury was still out on which Lance would prefer – but he was steadily leaning towards Lotor’s cause.

Voltron just wanted to take out Zarkon and free planets… but it wasn’t until he was able to attend some of Lotor’s strategic meetings and started to play Kishet that he started to realize how _flawed_ that idea was. 

For starters, if Zarkon was just killed, that would open a power vacuum for another dictator tyrant to fill in.  There would be infighting from the Galra and mass chaos – even more than there was currently. 

Second, there was the matter of planets themselves. 

Voltron just swooped in, got rid of the Galra, and left the planet alone again… with not a single care about the economic or political or societal structures being shattered.   They had been lucky that most of the planets liberated so far still had enough of their original infrastructure intact, but it was only a matter of time until that luck ran out. 

Lotor offered a complete solution.  He would still allow the planets to rule with their original government or, if the original government was lost, create a new government.  He would and could support the planets with resources and alliances. 

He was the best hope for the universe to know peace, even after Zarkon’s defeat. 

He was beginning to see why so many people trusted Lotor and offered him their loyalty.  He was charismatic and kind ~~and handsome~~.  He worried not for the Empire, but for the _People_ of the Empire.  It was truly inspiring. 

Ezor knocked on his door, taking him out of his thoughts, and he took a deep breath to steady himself before opening it for her.  She froze upon seeing him, and he watched as her gaze dropped to his feet and then steadily rose. 

“Wow.”  She said. “Lotor was right, the uniform does suit you.”

Lance wished that what came out of his mouth was something suave or confident like ‘Everything suits me.’  But what he said instead was, “Lotor said it suited me?”

Ezor giggled and smiled widely.  “Maybe~” She sung.  “Why do you care what Lotor thinks?”  She asked, still using that sing-song tone. 

“I don’t.”  Lance half shrugged, and brushed past her.  “C’mon, I have a fight to win.”

“Oh, look at you showing some false bravo!” Ezor cheered.  “Your belief that you’ll win is adorable.”  Ezor cooed and shook her head.  “But not today.”   She held up a little black data chip, and Lance felt his stomach plummet for a moment as he thought she had found the one from the mission.  “I got some data on Sub-Commander Ylek, and our resident Prince wants you to review it for the information you requested.” 

Lance glanced between the chip and Ezor’s grinning face and nodded as he held his hand out for it.  “I’ll get started right away.”

“Good.”  Ezor said.  She put the chip down in Lance’s outstretched hand.  The grin on her face was usually friendly, but there was something almost… predatory about the smile she was giving him now.  It left him feeling uneasy.  “Lotor’s _very interested_ in what _you’ll_ come up with.” 

“Why are you doing this?” Lance asked, furrowing his eyebrows. 

“What?  Delivering the chip?”  Ezor asked ‘innocently’.  “Because Lotor asked me to, silly.”

Lance shook his head.  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”  He replied.  “Why do you keep bringing up Lotor?”

“Well… you’re _interested_ in him, aren’t you?” The emphasis on ‘interested’ and what else she could be referring to was not lost on Lance.  He felt his cheeks heat up without warning and he quickly averted his gaze. 

“I just want to know him a little better, that’s all.”

Ezor hummed.  “A _little_ better?”  She repeated teasingly.  “You’ve been asking around about him.  How we meet him, what he’s like, looking into things… He’s _interested_ in you too, if you didn’t know.”  

Lance felt his mouth go dry at the implication of her words.  That was… that was ridiculous.  Why would a _prince_ be interested in Lance?  Why would _Lotor_ be interested in Lance?   He wasn’t anything special… It was probably just Ezor teasing him, trying to get a rise out of him. 

If Lotor was interested in him, it was because he was now part of the team and Lotor needed to know more about him to better place him.  To better use Lance to his full capabilities.  Nothing more, nothing less.

She poked him in the shoulder.  “Anyways, in all seriousness, he does want you to review that data chip and see if you can find an alternative strategy.” 

The whiplash from her flirty teasing about him and Lotor to the seriousness of the topic on hand was nearly strong enough to give Lance a headache.  He nodded slowly.  “Uh, yeah, right.”  He nodded at his door.  “I’ll just go get started.” 

He darted past her back into the relative safety of his room and fell back against the door as it closed.  His heart felt like it was beating at least three hundred times too fast in his chest.  His hands felt clammy, his mouth dry, and…

What was wrong with him?

Alright… he was beyond denying the crush.  Now it was time for him to _ignore_ the crush.

It was just a little school yard crush.  He used to get them all the time.  Whenever someone was super nice to him, he’d just start liking them, but it was never… never like this.  Then again, Billy sharing his markers wasn’t exactly the same as saving Lance’s life and then comforting Lance and assuring him that he had a place with the team and being handsome and kind and…

Fuck. Maybe it was a bit more than a crush.

Where had this come from?  How long had it been a thing?  Did it start with his rescue or more recently?  Was it the reason he was trying to find out more about Lotor? 

He groaned and pressed the heels of his palm against his eyes.  He couldn’t be doing this right now.  This second guessing his motives and reasons for the past couple of months that he had been stuck here.  He had a job to do, and he refused to let this distract him.

He refused.

People’s lives depended on him.  He could psycho-analyze himself later. 

He pushed off the door and grabbed his tablet, inserting the data chip before scrolling through the info available. 

~

“That’s going to be a difficult shot.”  Acxa’s eyebrows furrowed as she considered the more likely of plans that Lance suggested.  He withheld a sigh – he was used to people doubting his skills – and looked back at the holographic simulation.

“It’s the easiest to pull off.”  And also needed to be pulled off soon.  Sub-Commander Ylek was set to make this public appearance in only a couple days.  It didn’t leave much, if any, time for mistakes.  It barely left time for getting ready.  “It shouldn’t be as difficult as it appears.  So long as I can get a clear line of sight…”  He trailed off.  “It’s our best bet.”

“It would be very public.  I don’t think anyone in the Empire would miss it.”  Ezor commented.  “It would definitely send out a message.” 

“And after he’s taken out?”  Zethrid asked, arching an eyebrow.  “There’ll be riots in the streets.”

“Calling for the Empire’s blood.” Lance was quick to reply.  He rested his hands on his hips. “The people have been through enough pain, and Lotor will be showing them that he not only understands, but refuses to stand for it with the public death of Ylek.  The people will rally to him.”  He waved a hand in the air in a dismissive gesture.  “And if you guys are all in position across the city, you can start damage control and everything that was in the original plan. Besides, I’m sure you can work the riots to your favor, Zethrid.”

She huffed and crossed her arms, but didn’t disagree with his reasoning.  She eyed the holographic simulation.  “Can you even make that shot?  You’re good with firearms, but so is Acxa.”

“Lotor’s good with broadswords,” a fact Lance had discovered through the gossip of the townspeople, “so does that mean he’s good with all types of swords?” Lance asked, shaking his head.  “We all have our specialties, don’t doubt mine.”  Lance looked over at Lotor.  “ _I can do this_.”

Lotor’s lips were thin from being pursed so tightly, his gaze flickering across the simulation before settling on Lance.  His eyes narrowed contemplatively, and he tapped his fingers against his armrest. 

“Lance,” Lance stood up a little straighter as Lotor called out his name.  “We only have one chance to finish Sub-Commander Ylek before it’ll turn into a blood bath to get to him.”

Lance held Lotor’s gaze as he nodded.  “I understand.” 

“Zethrid.” Lotor’s gaze darted away from Lance to the woman next to him.  “Be prepared for damage control.  We will be trying Lance’s strategy.”

~

“I never expected you to have such a spine.”  Zethrid commented as Lance worked on translating a document as practice.  She was sitting beside him, resting her head on her hand in a ‘I’m-bored’ fashion. 

“It’d be no fun for you if I just rolled over for you.”  Lance replied absentmindedly.  There was one sentence he was having issues with, if only because he couldn’t remember what some of the words meant. 

He’d have to review his vocabulary… again.

“You’d roll over for Lotor.”

All of Lance’s concentration shattered with Zethrid’s words and he felt his mouth drop open.  He exhaled sharply and looked up at her, furrowing his eyebrows.  “Excuse me?”

She raised an eyebrow.  “You’d roll over for Lotor.”  She repeated.

“The fuck I would.”  Lance spat back.  “If he was suggesting something that would cost pointless loss of life.” He quickly added.  “There was no point, and my way is _better_.”

“If it works.” Zethrid said. 

“Are there no snipers in space?” Lance snapped.  “I mean, apparently not because everywhere I look I only see great perches and lax security towards said perches, and now you guys are doubting my skills, and let me tell you, _I. Can. Do. This._ And if there are truly no snipers, then god damn, my skills more valuable than I thought.  This _will_ work because _I_ can make that shot, even with this place’s _crappy rifles_.”

At some point in Lance’s mini tirade, he had stood, so he was currently taller than the sitting Zethrid, looking down at her with a glare.  She could have stood herself to put him back in his place, but instead she had remained sitting, and had even leaned back away from him.

“Alright, alright.”  She patted the air atop the table.  “I get it.” 

“How would you like me doubting if you can crush someone’s head between your thighs?” Lance asked her.  Just to further drive his point to make sure that she ‘got’ it. 

She narrowed her eyes.  “You’re _that confident_?”

“More.”

“Then why didn’t Voltron use you like that?” She asked, crossing her arms.  And just like that, with under ten words she just blew all the wind right out of his sails. “Surely they knew you could make such impossible shots, so why stick you with a blaster close to battle?  And if you see such great ‘perches’… I mean, it would only make sense for you to do what you’re skilled in.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Lance sighed.  His shoulders slumped as he fell back into his seat.  “Look, I can do it.  Trust me.”

Zethrid exhaled sharply and nodded.  “Fine.”  She didn’t say more, but Lance still got the distinct impression that if he did fail, she would be making her thoughts very clear to Lance. 

~

“I believe in you.” Acxa told Lance as they walked through the shooting range.  “I’ve seen you working with that rifle quite a bit…”  She trailed off and looked down one of the ‘lanes’ of the range.  “Soon you’re going to run out of range.”

Lance thought back to his last time here on his own and sighed.  “Already have.”  He complained light heartedly.  “But that’s alright.”  He patted the rifle on his shoulder almost affectionately.  She was still junk based on what he used to have, but she was the best junk available to him, and she would do the job.  “I think I’ve got her set, and if not… well, Zethrid will be sure to let me know.”

Acxa hummed and nodded.  She reached out and patted Lance’s shoulder.  “Narti and I believe in you.  Ezor’s on the fence… usually shots like this are reserved for robots, not people.” 

“So, there aren’t snipers in space.”  Lance said, thinking back to his terse conversation with Zethrid earlier.  “Good to know.”

“Snipers?” Acxa repeated.  She tilted her head in curiosity. 

“It’s technically what I am, which I suppose to you is someone who can successfully pull of long-range shots.  If I had a proper sniper rifle, then I could really show you some ‘impossible’ shots.”  He paused.  “Well, after breaking it in, so to speak.” 

Acxa hummed thoughtfully.  “Well, we might lack that now, but you can still show me what you’re made-of with that.”  She nodded at the rifle on his shoulder. 

Lance grinned and accepted her words as the challenge they were.

~

Lance didn’t expect Lotor to be with him.  He expected Lotor to stay behind at their makeshift base on the planet that Sub-Commander Ylek was set to visit.  If not there, then he expected Lotor to be with Acxa, or Zethrid, or any of the other generals, waiting and ready to appease the public after Ylek’s demise. 

Not that it mattered if Lotor was with Lance or not.  He had a _job_ to do and he would not allow personal feelings to interfere with that.  Not with his pride of his skills were on the line.  Not when people’s lives were on the line.

He could serious when he wanted to be – when he needed to be.

He followed Sub-Commander Ylek through the scope, waiting patiently for the right moment.  He couldn’t miss, couldn’t afford a second shot.  This was a one and done.  He had one chance, one opportunity.

The broadcast to and from the Empire started, going on about the power of the Empire and downplaying the civil war.  Beyond noting it’s start and existence, Lance didn’t pay it any attention.  The broadcast wasn’t important, or at least, not important enough.

What was important was himself, his rifle, and his target.

He was barely aware of all the little motions and actions he was doing as they were all so ingrained into him by now.  He _knew_ this rifle.  He knew about where he was and weather predictions and… _He_ _had this_. 

His heart beat was loud in his ears and he matched his breathing up to it.  One breath for every few beats.  Lance breathed in and adjusted his grip on his rifle one last time.  He breathed out and in the space between his next breath and his heartbeat, he pulled the trigger.

His shot was true.  He confirmed that Ylek went down before pulling away and busing himself with packing up his rifle. 

“Was that Lance?” Ezor asked over the communicator.  In the background, he could hear the crowd she was hidden among break into panic, nearly drowning out her awed and quiet question.

“Is the Target down?” Lotor asked over the communicator.  His voice echoed as it came through the communicator as well.  Lance paused in his packing long enough to shoot Lotor a look but didn’t say anything.  He was 99 percent certain that the target was down, but confirmation wouldn’t hurt.

“Target is down.” Acxa confirmed. 

Lance nodded once to himself.  Of course, the target was down.  His aim had been true.

“Lance?” Lotor’s voice brought Lance’s attention to him instead of what he was doing.  The lack of echo from the communicators meant that Lotor had switched his off for this.  “Good job.”

The warmth of Lotor’s praise matched the heat Lance could feel running through his veins to his cheeks.  There was pride and awe, and maybe a hint of something more in Lotor’s eyes as he spoke the praise.  The heartbeat in Lance’s ears only grew louder and frantic as Lotor smiled at him.

~

Lance hummed as he took another sip of his kanki – now that he had some himself, he understood why Lotor was always drinking it – and grinned at a partygoer.  In the distance, he thought he saw the multicolored form of Ezor disappear into the crowd with Zethrid. 

Good for them. 

It had been a tense week while they fought to get control of the system, but they had been successful – with minimal life lost.  They – Lance included – deserved to relax and celebrate.

And speaking of people who deserved to relax…

Lance looked up to see Lotor alone on a balcony, as expected.  Well, that wouldn’t do.  He deserved to be down with the people, celebrating with them. He was a hero to them.  The Prince they chose to follow and who had in return freed the system from a slavery ring and tyrant.  No more watching their loved ones dying in Zarkon’s gladiator rings for them.  No more ridiculous taxes and working people to the bone and death.  No more; and with Lotor, never again.

He wanted to be with Lotor. 

It wasn’t hard to work his way up to him.  “What’cha doing up here?” Lance asked. 

Lotor’s eyes flickered over him, and some part of Lance was sober enough to realize that this was extremely unprofessional, and he should probably be embarrassed.  Unfortunately, tipsy Lance didn’t care. 

“I don’t care for crowds.”  Lotor answered, gesturing down at the crowds below. 

Lance glanced at them before looking back at Lotor.  “They’re calling us heroes down in town.”   Lance replied.  The world spun around him and it took him a moment to realize that it wasn’t the world spinning but him.  Lotor took a sip out of the glass in his hands and Lance felt a sudden flash of jealousy over it. 

He kinda wanted to be the glass, which was _stupid_ , and he knew it was stupid, but he couldn’t help it.  Perhaps he should stop drinking if he was going to have such stupid thoughts.

“No.”  Lotor disagreed quietly.  “They’re calling _you_ a hero.” 

How would Lotor know?  He wasn’t down there with the people.  He wasn’t hearing what they were saying.  He didn’t see what Lance saw.  How would Lotor know. 

“Pluh-ease.”  Lance shook his head and laughed.  “ _You’re_ the hero of the war.  _You’re_ the one who moved people to start this war.”  Lotor laughed and Lance was startled by the crashing intruding thought that this might have been the first time Lance heard him laugh.

Fuck it was pretty, even if it was a bit bitter and sardonic. 

Well, if he wasn’t going to listen that, then maybe Lotor would listen to this.  “ _You’re my hero_.”  Lance admitted quietly. 

He was suddenly aware of how close he was to Lotor.  To how bright the blue of eyes stood out against the yellow, how sharp and silted his pupils were – which probably shouldn’t have turned Lance on as much as they did.  Except he was pretty sure that Galra pupils were still like a human’s in the whole dilating-when-they-see-something-they-like thing and Lotor’s pupils were definitely dilating; and the only person who could have been causing that reaction was… him.

It seemed like it happened in a heartbeat.  In the time it took for an eye to blink.   

One blink, less than one second of visibility and then Lotor’s lips were on his – or perhaps his were on Lotor’s.  It didn’t matter.  The glass that fell from Lotor’s hand and shattered against the floor didn’t matter.  However, the hand that cupped Lance’s head and the arm that slipped around Lance’s waist to hold him close did.  Lance’s own cup lost and forgotten somewhere didn’t matter, but the silky strands of Lotor’s hair between his fingers did. 

Nothing else mattered but him and Lotor; and Lance wouldn’t have it any other way for this moment.

~

As it turned out, one kiss turned to two and then three, and then more.  Lance suspected that this may prove to a problem in the future, but neither he nor Lotor seemed to care much about that at the time.

Lance just figured he would burn that bridge when he came to it, as that technique seemed to be working out for him thus far. 

The teasing he was subjected to from the girls wasn’t as bad as Lance feared it would be.  If anything, they seemed more relieved that they Lotor and Lance were ‘finally finished dancing around each other’, in Ezor’s words.

“Now you guys can finally start really courting.”  Ezor informed him with a grin that left him more than a little fearful as to what this ‘courting’ entailed.  “Better start picking up some lessons on swords, _Loverboy_.  You’re gonna need them.”

…He was going to have to speak with the others about getting some materials on courtships, and what to expect.

~

Lotor seemed to grow more comfortable with Lance out in the field with his generals after that initial ‘performance’ because he didn’t show up for any more missions. 

Which Lance supposed was all fine and good.  Lotor provided support – the rare times it was needed – over the communicators and primarily did his own thing.  Which, Lance figured was fair.  Lotor had his own agenda and it wasn’t like Lance needed Lotor to babysit him. 

The few times Lotor did contact them during a mission, it was usually to give them news that Lance would rather not exist.  Sure, it was nice having a heads up about horrible things like ‘reinforcements’ and ‘hitches’, but really, Lance would prefer for those things to just not happen.

A smooth operation seemed impossible, and it was pointless to wish for one. 

Clearly, Zethrid disagreed with Lance’s desires for an easy time as she gleefully mowed down opponents, but the entire team couldn’t all be Zethrids, or have Zethrid’s strength. 

Honestly, Lance couldn’t wait for this mission to be over.  They’d been on this planet for a few quintants, and Lance just _knew_ that when he returned, he’d be treated to a nice bath or treat from Lotor.  But, the way things were looking…

Well, he wasn’t betting on getting that bath anytime soon. 

His communicator beeped, and Lance sent up a silent prayer to whatever cosmic deity there was that it was good news like Acxa and Narti finishing up or the corrupt government surrendering or _something_.

“Team… you’re about to have some friendly company.”  Lotor informed them seriously, and Lance groaned to himself as he took out a set of sentries.  In Lotor’s speak, ‘Friendly Company’ could mean quite literally anything.

It could be an actual ally, or more hostile enemies, or worse, people who didn’t care which side was which.  Heck, Lance would take temporary allies over that last option.  

This time, Lotor sounded fairly genuine, so hopefully this ‘friendly’ company was true to name.  But until they arrived, Lance wouldn’t be holding his breath for that hope.

“I’ve just about had all the ‘friendly company’ I can take.”  Lance tartly replied.  “I’ve had to move locations at least twice.”  He shifted and took out a couple of guards that were sneaking up on Zethrid.  She finished off her current combat to swirl around at the crumpling forms of the guards.  She might have looked up at Lance’s position, but he was already looking away towards robotic sentries that were space’s poor excuse of a sniper.

“Awh, is the poor little bird sad about losing his perch?” Zethrid teased over the communicator. 

“I wouldn’t if you would stop _throwing people at me._ ” Lance hissed. 

“I’m just helping you with target practice.” Zethrid replied sweetly.  Lance watched as a guard went sailing through the air at one of the sentry bots. 

“You’re just mad I killed that one guard you were fighting with.”  Lance took down a couple more of the sentries before returning his watchful gaze down at Zethrid.  A ring of guards surrounded her, clearly bolstered by their numbers yet also terrified at the sheer idea of facing her. 

Which was fair.  Zethrid had that effect on people.  Besides, even with their numbers, there was a high chance at least most of them wouldn’t survive the fight even _if_ they managed to take her down.

“He was a worthy opponent!” Zethrid’s replying roar could be heard across the battleground without the use of the communicators.  At least two of the guards encircling her decided the risk wasn’t worth the reward and turned tail. 

“You were spending too much time with him.” Lance replied as he picked off the cowards who ran from Zethrid.

“Children.” Acxa interrupted.  “Focus on the mission.”

Lance snorted at the same time Zethrid scoffed.  “We are.” They replied in union.  “Getting a bit overrun out here though, if you get my drift.” Lance added on.

“We’re meant to cause chaos.”  Zethrid replied. 

“We’re meant as a distraction.”  Lance corrected her.  “And you’re getting sloppy.” Lance replied, taking another shot at yet another guard who was getting too close to Zethrid. 

“Sloppy?” She repeated.  “I’ll show you sloppy!” 

Unfortunately for Zethrid, Lance didn’t get a chance to see what she called sloppy.  He had a split second of warning before a guard who managed to get up and behind him attacked, sending them both into the fray below.  Well, Lance’s rifle was better designed for combat like this anyways.

“Nice of you to join me.” Zethrid grunted. 

Lance would have replied if he had the time to.  Thankfully, saving grace came in the form of a hauntingly familiar yellow blast that tore through the battleground; and an equally hauntingly familiar red sword which cut through the enemy combatant that was currently most dangerous to Lance. 

“Heard you guys could use some help.”  Keith – because who else could it be? – said before charging back into the fray. 

Zethrid had one response which Lance whole-heartedly agreed with: “Shit.”

~

Seeing the Voltron Paladins in action from an outside perspective gave Lance an insight as to how… unbalanced the team really was when fighting outside of their lions. 

In a battle like this, Keith was a loner – often charging off on his own.  Pidge and Hunk tended to stick close to each other with Pidge picking off close enemies and Hunk with distant. And the Pink Paladin, who Lance assumed was Allura based on the familiar training staff he had seen her use before, also seemed to be a loner like Keith.  Shiro seemed to gravitate to the center of the field and whoever happened to need him most.

Except he was almost always a little too late to help.  Just barely making it in the nick of time.  Some part of Lance was angry.  Shiro hadn’t been there to help Lance.  He had lured Lance into a trap and _left him_.  Or so Lance currently assumed.

He didn’t have any proof that Shiro was anything other than loyal to Voltron.  There was no proof of a set up beyond circumstantial evidence.  And surely Keith and everyone else would take Shiro’s side over Lance’s if a confrontation was to be had.

It didn’t matter anyways. Lance had a new team now, and they certainly worked much better together than this mix match of a team called ‘Voltron’.

“Pidge!” Keith and Hunk shouted nearly at the same time.  Lance didn’t even have the mind to think before he reacted.  Team Voltron, as much as a mess as it was, had been his original team, and some things were just… ingrained in.  Like watching out for them.

The guard that had been about to seriously harm Pidge was neutralized less than a second later, and Lance spun back around to finish his own group of guards.  Briefly Keith gave him a nod of appreciation before throwing himself back into the fray.

Lance snorted to himself.  Where had that appreciation been when Lance was on the team? 

Still, he couldn’t begrudge their help.  Thanks to it, the battle was over in what was probably minutes – although it felt longer.  Just in time for Acxa, Narti, and Ezor to finish up at exit the facility with Acxa on point.  She paused for only a moment upon seeing the Paladins before nodding her head at them. 

“Hey, you’re…”  Keith said, walking closer to her but she ignored and cut him off. 

“We’ve got a couple more bases to hit, if you’re up for it.” She said, looking at Shiro.  He glanced at Keith, visible even through the visors, and then nodded at her. 

“Of course.  We’re here to help.” 

Lance frowned and crossed his arms.  Ezor hip checked him on the way back to their ships, but Lance wasn’t in the mood to return her playful attitude.

~

All Lance wanted to do was debrief from the mission, kiss Lotor, take a nice long bath with the really nice oils Lotor hoarded, and take at least an eight-hour long sleep.  Perhaps not in that particular order, but some semblance of it would be preferred.

Somehow, Lance didn’t think this would happen.

He didn’t walk into the headquarters so much as drag himself.   He was just so tired, mostly from the close proximity to his former team.

And man, he didn’t know what to think about that, about _them_.

Battle hadn’t given him much time to reflect on meeting with them again, or what he was going to say or do.  His heart was beating fast enough to put a hummingbird to shame, despite how lethargic his body felt. 

“I can rip them apart.” Zethrid offered, and Lance smiled briefly up at her in appreciation.  There was comfort and care laced in her offer, hidden under the violence that Zethrid often preferred. 

“Please don’t.”  Lance sighed.  Beside him, Ezor hip checked him again in an attempt to cheer him up. 

There wasn’t time for further discussion as Pidge’s voice filled the room as the doors opened. “Their sharpshooter was unbelievable!  That was just so awesome!  I owe them one.”

Lance minutely perked up at Pidge’s words, his mind sluggishly working overtime to try to recall the moment she was talking about.  To be honest, the bases and battles had all started to blur together, especially the last couple with Voltron.

He watched as the Paladins filed in.  Shiro nodded at Lotor before the Pink Paladin stepped forward and removed her helmet to reveal that Lance had been correct in his assumption.

“Princess Allura of Altea.”  Lotor inclined his head at her.  “The rumors are true.”

Allura’s eyes flashed in the light as she stepped forward.  Her shoulders were squared, her head raised high.  It was funny to Lance.  Before, when he stood behind Allura, he always thought she looked powerful and confident during times like this.

Now, however, Lance thought she looked just a touch… pretentious?  Over-Confident?  Like she was a princess too inexperienced to be playing queen but trying anyways.

“You seem to know who we are, but we do not know your identity.”  Allura’s words held the weight of a challenge, and Lance barely managed to not snort.  Of course, they all knew who the Paladins of Voltron were.  There was a _show_ about it for the coalition for goodness sake. 

“My apologies, Princess.”  Lotor’s tone was pacifying and his smile thin. “I am Lotor, the Former Prince of the Galra Empire and the Son of Zarkon.”

To no one’s surprise, all the Paladins reacted physically to this news.  Pidge gasped. Shiro frowned, his eyebrows creasing and furrowing.  Keith’s mouth seemed to be caught between a snarl and a frown.  Hunk and Allura had actually stepped back – although Hunk was a full step back while Allura’ was a half. 

Since he was fluent in Allura, he could clearly see the pure visceral disgust in Allura’s expression.  His fingers twitched, anger surging through him at the small reminder of Allura’s rampant racism towards anything Galra. 

Yes, she did accept Keith and the Blade of Marmora… but she didn’t accept them so much as just… ignore that they were Galra and continue to use them.  She still spoke about how the Galra were a blight upon the universe to be eradicated.  How murderous and monstrous they all were.

Not all Galra were bad.  Lotor and his crew weren’t.  The Galra who sided with Lotor weren’t.  The Galra in the space mall, the noncombatants…  Like with anything, there was _good_ with the bad. 

“You’re fighting against your father?” Hunk asked. 

“Times are changing.”  Lotor replied.  “The people want change, and _I can be that change._ ”

“So, you started a civil war?  That does not seem very different from Zarkon’s methods.” 

Lance wasn’t the only to bristle at the comparison Allura made between Lotor and Zarkon.  Ezor’s hand found his arm and she squeezed nearly painfully tight.  To his other side, Acxa’s entire body stiffened.  Narti’s tail beat twice against the floor.  Kova wasn’t within sight, but Lance imagined his ears were laying flat in irritation.

“It was never my intentions to start this war, but I do intend to see it through.”  Lotor replied diplomatically.  Which, Lance supposed considering his hatred of being compared to his father, was impressive. 

“How did it start then?” Shiro asked.  “Wars don’t just happen.”

Lance’s fingers twitched again, all of his tiredness evaporating.  He wanted to step forward, to snarl that Shiro knew _exactly_ how the civil war started.  But he had no proof beyond an empty data chip. Everything was circumstantial. 

It was possible Shiro didn’t know about Lance being rescued after being captured. 

“My father and I had a bit of a disagreement which resulted in my banishment and new position as a wanted fugitive of the Empire.”  Lotor answered.  “The planets loyal to me succeeded from the Empire.”

“Wow.”  Pidge said, crossing her arms.  “Some disagreement if it resulted in _that_.” Suspicion coated her words.  Privately, Lance agreed with her.  Surely Lotor could have phrased it better?  But then again, Lance supposed that was the simplest explanation.

“It was, but worth it in the end.” Lotor replied.  If this was the right time or place, Lance would have been flattered at being considered ‘worth it’.  Or perhaps that was just his egocentrism talking.  “If you’d like, we can talk further in the morning.  I have already prepared accommodations for you all.”  Lotor continued as he gestured to the door. 

“Hold up.” Pidge held up her hand and shook her head.  “I want to meet your sharpshooter.”  She announced, and Lance felt his hummingbird heart literally stop. “I owe him.  I wouldn’t have found my brother if he hadn’t collapsed Sub-Commander Ylek’s slave trade, and he saved my life earlier.”

…

Well, fuck.

Out of the corner of his eye, some small part of Lance’s brain that wasn’t currently panicking registered that Lotor was frowning.  His hands felt sweaty and his heart was stuck alternating between being a dead rock and mimicking a humming bird. 

He felt like he couldn’t breathe.

Pidge wanted to talk to him.  Pidge wanted to _meet_ him.  Pidge wanted to _thank him_.  Did he say something.  Did he reveal himself to his team?  What did he do?

He glanced at Lotor, but beyond the small frown, Lance couldn’t see anything that would help him.  There was trust in Lotor’s gaze, and Lance clung to that.  Lotor trusted him, and he trusted Lotor.   Lance trusted his team and he trusted Lotor, and so long as they were all here… he could do this.

He stepped forward – Ezor’s hand falling away from his arm with a quiet gasp – until he was beside Lotor.  Briefly, he held Lotor’s hand, squeezing lightly to reassure both himself and Lotor.  Lotor’s frown melted away into a grin as he turned back to the Paladins.

Alright then, I present to you my sharpshooter.”   Lotor said as Lance removed his helmet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come talk to me on my [Tumblr](https://star-gazing-knight.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> I try to post pictures of my cats every Saturday, so at the very least, there's that. Although my pictures totally play favorites... but it's not my fault Gizmo is the more photogenic kitty (and more friendly towards getting his photo taken). 
> 
> Also, we've officially caught up to [Walk on Water](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12770583) now. Yay! All new content from here on out. :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger Warning(s):** Anxiety/Panic attack, PTSD, 
> 
> If you feel that I need to add/remove warnings per chapter, please give me a message on [Tumblr.](https://star-gazing-knight.tumblr.com/) Thank you!

There was a moment of silent shock, a calm before the storm so to say.  Realization and recognition passed over the team like a wave, and then just like that, the calm broke.

Unsurprisingly, Allura and Keith were the first to react.  Keith’s bayard formed in his hand, already activated as a threatening sword.  Whether he was threatening Lotor’s crew or Lance, Lance wasn’t sure.

Lance didn’t have eyes in the back of his head to see his new teammates reactions, but he didn’t need to see to know.  He trusted that they had his back, at least in this situation.  And if nothing else, _Lotor_ had Lance’s back. 

Allura’s eyes widened, her mouth slight agape with her hand raised towards it as if to shield her unseemly expression.  “Lance?” She asked, and Lance hated that the accent she had made her pronounce his name nearly the same way Lotor said his name.  “Is that… Can it truly be you?”

He could hear the low growl of Kova and Zethrid.  Narti was completely silent, a deadly tell to her irritation.  The same for Ezor and Acxa, although one of them took a step forward and was lingering just out of the corner of Lance’s eye. 

Lotor’s hand had moved subtly behind Lance, and Lance could feel the shape of the Galra military hand sign to ‘hold and wait’ against the small of his back, no doubt directed to the team.  At his side, however, Lotor’s smile remained.  Like this was all one big happy reunion.  However, the crinkles at the corner of his eyes and the slight drooping of his ears betrayed him. 

“It’s me, princess.”  Lance nodded solemnly before he switched his gaze towards Pidge.  “And you’re welcome, but I think Lotor suggested that we talk further in the morning?”

“That’s it?” Keith half shouted.  “You expect us to just believe you’re Lance, and that the _son of Zarkon_ rescued you, and all you have to say is that we should talk in the morning?!”

“Keith.”  Allura and Shiro admonished at the same time.  Lance held up his hand not holding his helmet and shook his head. 

“No, no.  It’s fine.”  Lance sighed.  “He wouldn’t be Keith if he wasn’t paranoid.  In any case, we’ve all been through a tough mission, and I would very much like to debrief and sleep before we have _any_ more conversations.”

This seemed to be enough for Hunk because he smiled and chuckled.  “Classic Lance, wanting his beauty sleep.”  There was pain in his gaze when he looked at Lance that Lance wished he could just wipe away, and Hunk’s hands were doing the antsy twisting thing he did when he was anxious.  But there was little Lance could really do to assure his friend at the moment. 

Well, actually, if Lance didn’t mind ignoring Lotor’s recommendation, then yeah, Lance could reassure his friends by explaining all that happened to him.  But let it never be said that Lance wasn’t a petty bitch, and honestly, he was more than a little irritated that it had taken this long for the team to find him.

And it had been by _accident_. 

“Damn right.  You think I look this beautiful by some miracle?  Nope!”

Zethrid stepped up past Lance, specifically moving to stand between Lance and the other paladins in a way that nearly blocked him from them.  Lance appreciated her overprotectiveness, but at the same time, he could have handled the Paladins on his own.  They were his former team.

“I’ll take ‘em to their rooms.” She said, and Lance was very pleased to note that she even towered over Shiro. 

“I want answers.” Keith demanded in a low growl. 

“You’ll get ‘em in the morning, short stuff.” Zethrid replied, her hands on her hips as she leaned forward patronizingly.  “You heard the Prince.  The Green One met _our_ sharp shooter,” there was a definite possessive emphasis in ‘our’ which Lance was sure did not go unnoticed by Team Voltron.  She was still blocking his view, but he could just imagine Keith bristling at her words. “So there’s nothing left till we talk in the morning.”

“Let it go, Keith.”  Shiro said, his voice muted and almost inaudible.  “Let’s go and… rest up.  We’ll get our answers in the morning.”

Lance frowned, recognizing the particular tone in Shiro’s voice.  He sucked on his teeth and waited for them to exit out of the room before spinning around to the others. “Pidge is going to hack our systems tonight… and I want to review the data we got from the bases before Voltron can get their hands on it.”

“The Green One?” Acxa asked for clarification.  She hummed once Lance nodded sharply and turned her gaze to the door where they’d departed. “Is she good?”

“The best.”

“Then we’ll keep the base data off the network until morning.”  She glanced at Lotor, “If that’s acceptable, sir.”

“Very well.  Give Lance access as well and help him review it.  I too would like us to check it before allowing others to see.” Lotor agreed. 

“Just send it to my tablet or leave a datachip with it or something… I’m gonna just…” He trailed off, and ran a hand through his hair before shaking his head.  “I’m gonna….”  He shook his head again and turned on his heel and headed for the door out. 

“Uh.” He heard Ezor say as the door closed behind him.  His feet automatically autopiloted him towards his bedroom, his mind spinning and lost in the sudden realization that his previous team was here.  They were here and expecting to know what happened to Lance – a question Lance didn’t even fully know the answer to.

In hindsight, the mission seemed like such a set-up, and with the blank data chip… it just seemed all the more likely.  But there was no proof.  No evidence.  Nothing. 

If he wanted… if he wanted he could go back to his team.  He could just forget all about Shiro’s possible betrayal and continue being a Paladin of Voltron.  He could… he could… leave Lotor and the Girls.  Return to the familiarity and safety of his friends and… be possibly betrayed again.

No.  No, he wouldn’t do that.  He was _happy_ with Lotor and the Generals.  He felt safe with them.  Granted, he had felt safe with Voltron too.

But what if it wasn’t up to him.  He knew Lotor would fight to keep him but… what if Voltron demanded he be returned?  What if Voltron left Lotor no other choice than to give Lance back?  What if they didn’t even offer the choice and just took Lance back anyways?

And if he did go back… if he was forced to return, then what?  He’d be betrayed again?  Sent on a set-up disguised as a solo mission again?

Unbidden, the image of the inside of the container Lance had been in came to mind.  His throat felt full of the thick gas, his lungs burning for air.  He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.  All he could see was the inside of the container slowly being covered by the fog of the gas.  He was going to be taken the _druids_ , to the _Witch_ , and this time, there wouldn’t be a Lotor to save him.

“Lance!” There was a warm hand against his cheek, and when he blinked, Lotor’s face loomed in his vision, his eyes wide and dilated into thin little cat slits.  Lance watched as they grew back into some semblance of normalcy as Lotor realized Lance was back in reality. 

His whole body was shaking as he leaned against the wall, partially caged by Lotor until the prince side-stepped to allow Lance a clear exit if he so chose.  His lips and mouth felt dry, his head felt full of cotton.  Lotor studied him for a long moment, his eyebrows furrowing the longer he stared.

“A waking dream?” Lotor asked, his tone much gentler but no less stern than the one he used to snap Lance out of the… whatever he just had.  Panic attack, anxiety attack? Lance wasn’t sure. 

He swallowed thickly, and side stepped away from Lotor.  “I’m fine.” His voice only marginally shook.  Lotor’s hand closed against his forearm like a vice, and Lance half turned back to look at him with wide eyes.

“You’re not.” Lotor corrected him, his eyes narrow in determination.  “I need to know if this is a common occurrence, Lance.” He wasn’t speaking as Lance’s lover or boyfriend or partner or whatever they were, but as his commander.  The tone he was using was one he used when threatening to ‘bench’ someone from a mission. 

“I’m fine.” Lance repeated, with slightly more conviction this time.  “It’s never happened before.  I’m fine, I swear.”

“I knew about the nightmares, but I need to know if you’re having waking dreams as well, Lance.” Lotor’s eyes were still narrowed with suspicion and concern.  Had Narti told Lotor about the nightmares?  How else could he have found out?

“This is the first time, really.” Lance informed him.  “How’d you know about the nightmares?”

“A calculated estimate formed from seeing you asleep at a table or playing Kishet with Narti at uncanny hours in the morning.”  Lotor replied smoothly.  “Thank you for confirming, but we’re talking about what just happened, not the nightmares.  Although, I do plan to speak on them as well at some point.”

Great.  Just great.

Lotor let out a short sigh, his grip on Lance’s arm slightly loosening.  “I won’t preach that you can trust and talk to me.  All the words in the universe won’t mean anything without the actions to back them up.” 

It was weird that Lotor wasn’t pulling the whole ‘you can talk to me/trust me’ card, but it was also strangely comforting.   Then again, it shouldn’t be so surprising.  Lotor tended to trust actions over words any day. 

That didn’t mean Lotor wasn’t going to talk about this though.  Not that Lance blamed him.  The nightmares were something that, admittedly, Lance should have brought up.  It was an ignorable offense when they weren’t affecting much, but now that they were happening while he was awake…

Well, that was cause for concern.  Not just for Lance, but for Lotor and his team as well.  What if it happened again while Lance was on a mission?

It just wasn’t safe.  

That being said, Lance still didn’t want to talk about it.  Lance sighed and looked away.  “I’m fine, Lotor, really.  Today’s just been… taxing.”

Lotor was quiet for a long moment, although his grip on Lance’s arm neither loosened nor tightened.  “Your old team triggered it, didn’t they?  I haven’t had the chance to observe your interactions for long, but you’ve clearly been frazzled since their appearance.”

And as expected, Lotor continued to push.

“They didn’t trigger anything, Lotor.” Well, not directly anyways.  It seemed Lotor noticed the unspoken add on for his responding silence spoke volumes of his disapproval.  “It was just… It’s stupid and not going to happen, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Clearly it does.” Lotor’s voice was sharp and stern, yet still gentle.  “So if the presence of your previous team didn’t trigger it,” and wow, was the doubt heavy in Lotor’s tone, “then what did?”

“The thought of rejoining Voltron.”  Lance admitted quietly.  Lotor’s grip loosened and then vanished. 

“Rejoining…” He echoed, sounding unsarcastically lost for a second.  “Is that what you want?”

…

…

How the hell did Lotor come to _that_ conclusion?  Lance just admitted that the thought of rejoining Voltron sent him into… whatever that was, and Lotor’s first logical conclusion was ‘Lance wants to leave to rejoin Voltron’?!

“Lotor, babe…  I love you, but how can you be so smart and yet so stupid?” Lotor blinked twice in rapid succession, jerking back just the tiniest amount, his lips parting in surprise.  “How in the world did you come to the conclusion that I wanted to rejoin Voltron based off anything in this conversation?  What part of ‘I was just triggered into a nightmare while awake by the thought of joining Voltron’ translates to ‘I want to join Voltron’?”

“You love me?” Lotor asked, and now it was Lance’s turn to jerk back in surprise.  His brain worked double time as he thought back over the words he had just said and… shit.  He had said that, hadn’t he? His whole body felt hot with embarrassment and anger – at himself for saying something like that this early into the relationship, heck for saying something like that at all. 

“Uh.” Lance intelligently replied.

“You love me.”  Lotor repeated, softer and less questioningly this time.  “What a devious, albeit apparently unplanned, tactic to side track me.”  Lotor shook his head and sighed.  “We’ll talk of this later, as well.” 

“It wasn’t a tactic to side track you!” Lance growled.  “I didn’t mean to say it, it just came out in my pure confusion about you thinking that I wanted to rejoin Voltron.  Vrekt, Lotor.  You are one of the most infuriating people I’ve ever met, and that’s saying a lot considering I know _Keith!”_

“…Did you just compare me to the Red Paladin?”

“Is that really what you’re going to focus on?” Lance asked, crossing his arms.  “Seriously?”

“Would you rather that I focus on the fact that you _don’t_ love me?”  Lotor asked.

…

…

UGH.  How was this man both so smart and so dense at the same time?  He knew Lotor was smarter than this.

Unless… Unless he was purposely being dense?  To what ends?  To rile up Lance?  To get him to spill more things that he didn’t mean to say?  Or perhaps, this was Lotor’s attempt to try to make Lance feel, what?  Better?  More like himself? 

…Was he trying ~~– and kinda failing –~~ to banter with Lance like Ezor and Zethrid did?  Or was this his weird way of flirting that Lance was still figuring out?

“I am going to kill you.”  Lance promised him quietly.  “In your sleep, with your long beautiful hair around your equally beautiful neck.”

Lotor’s tips downturned into a frown for a second before he replied, very simply, “You just said you didn’t mean it.” 

“I said I didn’t mean _to say it_!” Lance corrected him. 

“So you _do_ love me.” Lotor replied, smugly.  Lance mentally screamed in frustration. 

“Lotor, I swear to… is this _really_ the conversation you want to be having?”

“Ah, so now you do want to talk about what triggered you?” Lance was right!  Lotor was being purposely dense for whatever stupid reason. 

“I already told you, it was the thought of rejoining Voltron, and somehow, from that, you got the idea that I wanted to rejoin Voltron!”

“I misunderstood.  I thought you were implying that the thought of staying here was the fear.”

“…How the fuck?”

“Well, all you clarified was that the trigger was the thought of rejoining Voltron, I assumed, incorrectly it seems, that it was more so the inability to rejoin Voltron due to being a member of my team, leaving you feeling trapped.”

“I repeat, how can you be so smart and so vrekting stupid?”

“I take offense to that.”

“I take offense to your face.”

“Nonsense, I’m beautiful according to you.” Lotor’s smug tone returned.  He grinned at Lance, before clearing his throat and schooling his features into something more serious.  “But honestly Lance, the thought never crossed my mind any differently because I would never allow you to leave any other way than willingly.”

Wait… what?

“I would hope that by now you have realized that I don’t tend to give up things that I consider mine very easily.  I have had to fight for everything I have, and to keep anything I get.  Unless _you_ wanted to leave, I won’t let anything take you away.  Not even your former team.”

Huh.  Well, it was good to know that while Lotor was possessive, he was a protective kind of possessive?  Not that it made possessiveness a healthy trait, but he supposed it was… understandable(?) and better(?).

It was reassuring that if Lance did choose to leave, the option was still there, regardless of Lotor’s possessiveness. 

“So… what if Voltron threatens to take me back?” Lance asked. 

Lotor laughed at the question and smiled a sharp toothy smile that Lance knew did not mean the friendliness of his own toothy smile.  “I dare them to try.” Lotor replied, a dark promise in his words.  “If you don’t want to return to them, then you won’t.  It’s that simple.”

“So it’s all about what I want?”

“You’re the one who loves me.” Lotor replied back cheekily and smartly. 

“You’re going to hoard that over my head for the rest of our relationship, aren’t you?”

“Perhaps.  But getting back on topic, if the thought of returning to them set you off like that, then there had to be a reason.  Care to share?”

Lance crossed his arms and pursed his lips as he debated sharing his suspicions with Lotor.  If Voltron was going to be their ‘allies’ then… Lotor needed to know.  But if Lance was wrong, then he would be casting unnecessary tension on the two groups. 

Not to mention the fact that he had been sitting on this for so long on his own.  The thought of sharing it was... frankly, terrifying.   What if Lance was wrong and ruined any chance of an alliance between Lotor and Voltron?

Could he face his former teammates on a battlefield as an enemy?  Or would he choose to side with them, and betray his new team? 

But if he was right… if he was right, then all of Voltron was in danger; and not just Voltron, but all of the universe.

Lance nibbled on his lip – a habit he fought very hard to break when he was younger – as he pondered his choices. 

“Ah.” Lotor said and Lance looked at him to see his eyes narrowed in the way that meant his mind was overworking to figure out pieces of a puzzle.  “I think I see now.  Would it be easier to share somewhere more private?”

What Lotor thought he saw was lost on Lance.  He didn’t have a fear of anyone over hearing his conversation, except for _Lotor_ overhearing and reacting based on the information.  Lance wanted more proof than just circumstance before going to Lotor.

He didn’t want to just… ruin things based off him misunderstanding.  Things could be good between Lotor and Voltron.  They could work together – if Lance’s fears were false – and form a perfect duo.  Voltron to do the hard and heavy hitting, and Lotor to take over with policies and government.

Not to mention he and Allura would be an amazing pollical powerhouse. 

What was to happen after defeating Zarkon and the Galra empire wasn’t something that Voltron had ever brought up, at least to Lance’s knowledge, but Lotor was the perfect person to step up and take the reins of the Empire after defeating Zarkon.

The Galra would ~~probably~~   accept him, and that would save the Empire from countless meaningless deaths.  

He couldn’t just ruin a potential relationship like that based on baseless accusations.

“It’s nothing, Lotor.”  Lance plastered on a smile.  “I was captured while working with them, and I guess, I don’t know, I have a fear of being captured again.”  

Lance nearly missed the very tiniest narrowing of Lotor’s eyes.  It was there for just a tick, just long enough for Lance to question if it was there at all. 

“If you’re captured, I’ll get you back.  The same as I would any of my Generals.” Lotor assured him, seemingly accepting Lance’s not-exactly-a-lie lie.  “Unless, of course, your capture is a purposeful ploy to get information, in which case, there would already be a plan in place to extract you.  And given your circumstances, the likelihood of your purposeful capture is about the same of that as Narti’s, which is to say, slim to none.”

Lance forced a laugh.  “Good to know.”

“I don’t make a habit of sending my Generals to the witch, so you shouldn’t worry about that.”

“Also good to know.” Lance nodded.  “So you good now?  I can continue to my room?”

“Funny, I thought you’d want a bath.”  Lotor smiled as he reached out to grab Lance’s hand.  He gently stroked the back of it.  “I know how much you love the oils I keep.”

That actually sounded like a really good idea.  And that had been originally Lance’s game plan before Votlron came and threw a wrench at it, wasn’t it?  Finish the mission, debrief, bath with Lotor’s fancy oils, and sleep.  Not necessarily in that order.

“Mmm, I do love the oils.” Lance muttered. 

Lotor half laughed.  “I understand why you stick around now, my bath oils.”

“Among other things.” Lance teased.  He switched the hold Lotor had on his hand so that they were holding hands.  “Are you going to join me for the bath?”

“How I wish I could, but I should debrief the others.”  Lotor sighed, and held up their joined hands to kiss the back of Lance’s.  “Speaking of, we can do your debriefing after your bath, unless you’d prefer to get up early to do it before the meeting with your former team?”

The corners of Lotor’s mouth quirked up at the noise Lance unintendedly released at the mere idea of getting up even earlier than usual to debrief. 

“Do you _want_ to kill me?”

“You did threaten to strangle me with my own hair earlier.” Lotor reminded him, teasingly.  “But no.  You’re far more entertaining to me alive than dead.”

“Reassuring.”

“Undoubtably.”  Lotor agreed.  “We’ll debrief after your bath.  I’ll make sure your tablet has the information on it by the time you’re out.”

“Thank you, Lotor.”

Lotor released Lance’s hand, and nodded sharply, turning to walk back to the command room, presumably to debrief the others before he paused.  He turned back to Lance and tilted his head.  “Oh, and before I forget,”  He stepped back to Lance and cupped his cheek with his hand before leaning down to kiss him.  “Welcome home.” He whispered as he pulled away before he turned on his heel and disappeared down the hallway.

Lance was frozen, his eyes wide and his hand half raised to his mouth.  A giddy smile started to grow before he ducked his head and laughed.

Welcome home, indeed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter. I've been feeling unmotivated with Voltron lately. Heck, I've been feeling unmotivated with most things lately. 
> 
> I've been in one of those moods were I just want to sit around and play Minecraft and listen to the rain in the game. Not that thats an option all things considered. I don't really have time for Minecraft (just staring at a blank word document... I'll always have time for that. :/ )


	6. Chapter 6

Lance considered the scene before him as he walked into the kitchen.  He considered it once, twice, and finally three times before finally coming to the conclusion that this was not a weird fever dream brought on by finishing an incredibly taxing mission.

The events of the previous night – finishing a mission and reuniting with Team Voltron – wasn’t a highly realistic stress dream like he had immediately assumed upon waking, but reality.

Now that he had gotten to know her a bit more, he could recognize the look of smug confidence in the way Narti was leaning back, the tip of her tail lazily drumming against the floor.  Kova sat on the table, delicately nibbling on some of the space ham that Zethrid often fed him.  She must have been here recently.

Across the pair was Pidge, who was lost in deep concentration, her hand rubbing her chin as she studied the Kishet board that laid between her and Narti. 

Acxa – who looked too tired for this – was playing translator, and explaining the game to a curious Shiro and not so curious Keith.    Her cup of space coffee was steaming on the table in front of her, near the game board. 

Shiro also held a cup of space coffee, holding it up to his upper chest with both hands like it was something precious that he was terrified would be taken away from him.  It would have been cute if it wasn’t Shiro, and Lance didn’t have all these horrid – but possibly true – doubts about him.

Lance grimaced as he peered at the Kishet board from over Pidge’s shoulder. “That’s rude.” He said in lieu of a greeting to Narti before reaching over Pidge to move one of her pieces, ignoring her indigent ‘hey!’.  “Thank me later.” He told her before he continued on his way to the second coffee pot on the other side of the room ~~away from Shiro~~.

Lance heard Narti’s tail stop, and Acxa snorted. “She’s calling you a traitor.” She informed him with no small amount of amusement.  Lance could easily imagine her leaning forward on the table, sipping her coffee like Kermit the Frog with his tea.

“She was being rude; it’s the least she deserves.”  Lance replied, pouring himself a cup of coffee and pretending that he hadn’t felt Keith’s gaze fixated on him since he walked in.  “Pidgeon’s a newbie.”

“Hey!” Pidge squawked again. “I getting the hang of it!”

“No, you weren’t.” Both Lance and Acxa replied at the same time.  “And Lance did you a favor.  Narti was banking on you not knowing to make that move.” Acxa added on.   “He’s been playing with Narti a lot.”

“Is that what you do here?”  Keith cut in.  “Play board games and go on missions?”  There was an accusative tone in Keith’s voice that Lance didn’t appreciate.  Although what exactly he was accusing Lance of could be anyone’s guess.

Lance didn’t bother replying – verbally or physically – and instead started a search for the jar of Ylik.  “Acxa, have you seen the Ylik or did Ezor hid it again?”

Both Acxa and Lance ignored Keith’s low growl at Lance’s ignorance, although there was a specific tone to her voice that indicated that she didn’t appreciate Keith.  “Probably.  You know how much she loves it.”

Lance hummed noncommittedly as he dug through the cabinets and cupboards, pushing various boxes and jars around.  “Found it!” He exclaimed as he pulled it out and added some to his coffee.

“Is that.. sugar?” Shiro asked. 

“You could say that.” Lance replied, turning around to lean against the counter and take a sip of his now sweetened coffee.  “Coffee’s still weak, but it helps.”

“Weak.” Acxa repeated under her breath in something akin to disbelief as she took another sip.  Lance pointedly ignored her. 

Just like he was still pointedly ignoring Keith’s staring.  Or maybe he was glaring?  It was always hard to tell with Keith.  Lance supposed that might have been what started Lance’s animosity with him when they both attended the Garrison.

Well, that and Keith’s general aloofness, skill, and ignorance of Lance.

Lance diverted his gaze to the game on the table, and noted that Narti wasn’t as relaxed or confident as she had been before.

Maybe Pidge _was_ already getting the hang of the.. oh wait.  Never mind, that was a horrible move.  Narti’s tail thumped once in triumph, and Lance sighed into his coffee.  So much for that.

Not that he should expect much from Pidge.  She might have been a genius, but she was, as he said earlier, a newbie.

“Where’s Zeth and Ez?” Lance asked after a few moments of silence and watching the game.  Acxa shrugged, her gaze fixed on the game board.  Her hands were wrapped tightly around the coffee mug, and Lance fears that if she gripped it any tighter, she would break it.

Were the other Paladin’s presence that taxing on her?  Or was it just Keith? 

As if reacting to Lance’s thoughts, her gaze darted to the sullen Red Paladin before returning back to the game board.  Lance reached behind him to grab one of Zethrid’s breakfast bars and bit off a chuck of it, chewing it slowly as he observed both the game and his various Teammates – both old and new. 

“I think Zethrid’s with the Yellow Paladin.”  Acxa replied after a few moments.  “Ezor is.. being Ezor.”

Translation: snooping somewhere.  Probably through the Paladins stuff, if they brought anything along.

Lance replied in a low long hum and took an equally long slow sip of his coffee.  Keith continued to stare/glare at him. 

“And Lotor?” He asked after another moment of silence before biting off another chunk of the bar.

“With Allura.”  Shiro replied before Acxa could respond. 

Lance frowned slightly, his eyebrows lightly knitting.  With… Allura?   Now that he thought about it, it really shouldn’t be so surprising to him.  He had gotten to know Lotor a bit more since the start of their relationship, and Lotor was always down to find out more about Altean culture.

And well, Allura and Coran _were_ wellsprings of that kind of information. 

But to have conversations like that when Lotor and his crew were only _potential_ allies to Voltron… especially considering who his _father_ was.  Well, Lance just couldn’t see Allura being able to look past that tiny little fact.

Which could be… problematic considering how Lotor viewed his father, and how he felt about people just seeing him as his father’s son. 

“Could I have some of that sugar?” Shiro asked, like nothing was wrong.

For once it seemed like Lance and Keith were on the same page.  “How can you just act like this is normal?” Keith didn’t ask with enough volume for it to be a shout proper, but for all intents and purposes, he shouted.

Lance raised an eyebrow, unsure if Keith was specifically addressing Lance, Shiro, Pidge, or maybe all three.  If it was Shiro, then Lance was all on board.  For someone who potential sent Lance alone out into a trap, he was acting surprisingly chill.

“Keith.” Shiro sighed the tired worn leader sigh that seemed to be specifically reserved for either Keith or Lance.  “We talked about this.”

“We agreed to wait till morning.” Keith stated, his eyes hard.  “It’s morning.”

“It’s five o’clock somewhere.”  Lance muttered and rolled his eyes.  “But the talk you want to have isn’t gonna happen till everyone’s here.  So settle down, Mullet.  And FYI, _this is normal_.  It’s been months, of course this is normal now.”

Shiro lowered his coffee and put it on the counter behind him, his gaze darting from Keith to Lance.  “Lance.” He said, although his tone wasn’t the one he used on Keith just a moment before.  Lance couldn’t place if it was sad, scolding, disappointed, or some sort of motley mixture of all three. 

Since when had his previous Team become so hard for him to read?

Or was it just a Keith – and now Shiro – thing?

Keith had always been hard to read but Shiro… well, maybe it wasn’t so surprising that Lance had lost the ability to read his former leader’s tone.  His trust in Shiro had been shaken to the core to the point that Lance doubted he would ever fully trust anything from him ever again.

Especially if his suspicions turned out to be true.

Now that he was more awake, he should probably run over the data one more time before the meeting.  Nothing had really stood out to him last night, but he hadn’t exactly finished it either.  When he had read the same line about ‘Operation Kuron’ three times in a row, he figured he it was time for sleep.

The atmosphere in the kitchen prickled at Lance’s skin.  A heavy miasma of negative emotions settling down upon them all.  His appetite ruined, Lance threw away his breakfast bar and bounced off the counter to drop his half-drunk coffee into the sink.

“We’re not having this discussion now.”  Lance said to Keith as he walked around the kitchen – passing behind Narti and giving the Voltron crew a wide berth. 

Was it wrong of him to use his new Teammates as living shields against his old ones?  Probably. Did he currently care?  Not at all.

The conversation seemed to have taken Pidge’s attention away from the game because she watched him like a hawk, her glasses making her eyes seem owlishly large as her gaze followed him.

“Where are you going?” She asked.  Narti made a move on the board while Pidge was distracted in an entirely legal move that used to piss Lance off before he figured out how to make it work for him.

“Pay attention, Pidge.  You miss stuff when you don’t.” Lance nodded at the board before exiting the kitchen. 

~

Zethrid, wherever she may be, was with Hunk.  Lotor was with Allura.  That knocked both of them off Lance’s list of people to go to currently, considering he didn’t particularly feel keen on rubbing elbows with his previous Team.

Which left Ezor.

Ezor who was off being Ezor.

Finding Ezor wasn’t normally that hard… unless she wanted to be hard to find.  In which case, finding her was next to impossible.  One had a better change of getting Lotor to admit to loving his father than they did of finding Ezor when she didn’t want to be found.

As such, Lance didn’t have much hope for finding her.  He still swung by the rooms that the Paladins had used on his way back to his own room anyways.  Frustration boiled inside of him, the encounter in the kitchen playing in his mind like a record on repeat.

Over and over and over. 

He needed to get the energy out, even if he didn’t exactly have energy to spar considering how little sleep he got.  And the best way to do that was to work out with Ezor. 

Maybe this was why Keith was always training, always fighting.  Maybe he had this same annoying energy burning under his skin.   Or maybe Keith was just a workaholic who was trying to train himself to death. 

It was Keith, so who could say? 

The Paladin’s rooms were empty.  No Ezor, no Paladins, no stuff… nothing. Ezor must have been disappointed.  He wondered if she needed to work out frustration just as badly as he did.

If so, then she might be at the training areas.  There were plenty of dummies to work out misplaced agitation, even if it wasn’t quite the same as a real opponent.  And if she wasn’t there, then Lance would just spend some quality time with some dummies himself.

He stopped by the observation deck to make sure the training area wasn’t in use, but faltered upon entering.  The training area was very much in use, although not by Ezor. 

It was always a sight to see Lotor fighting. 

Unlike most Galra that Lance had ever seen fight, Lotor isn’t aggressive.  He was aggravating, but not aggressive.  He preferred to dodge attacks, either jumping, rolling, or dancing gracefully out of the way.  If not dodging, then he was blocking and parrying attacks, holding back his opponent until they either gave up or became sloppy. 

It appeared that Lotor’s strategy was no different when against Allura.  She seemed to be sticking to her usual strategy as well, which was about as effective against Lotor as electricity to rubber. 

It was kind of funny now that Lance thought about it.  Allura preached about how the Alteans were a peaceful race.  How they were diplomatic explorers, yet her fighting style was as aggressive as some of the Galra.  Yet Lotor, who was raised by the Galra, preferred evasion.  

Allura backed off after a frenzy of failed attacks, panting slightly as she planted her staff into the ground.  Her eyes were narrowed as she glared at Lotor. 

“That can’t be good.”  Lance muttered to himself, leaning against the observation deck.  He tapped his fingers against the bar subconsciously.  “So much for peace talks if they’re already fighting.”

Which really wasn’t a surprise to Lance.  Allura hated Zarkon and anything connected to him.  It wasn’t a surprise to see that hatred extended to Lotor as well. 

“You will not be winning this fight.” Allura informed Lotor, her tone snappy.  Lotor arched an eyebrow and flipped his sword around in his hand.  An idle animation that Lance noticed he tended to favor.

“Win or lose, the outcome doesn’t change.” Lotor informed her. 

Her eyes narrowed further, and she launched herself back at him. “He’s.  My.  Paladin.”   Allura punctuated each of her words with a quick swipe of her staff.  Lotor was able to dodge the first two, but was forced to block the last one.  The force of it alone sent him sliding back a few feet. 

Lance’s mouth felt dry as his brain worked overtime to process what he had just heard.  Were… were they fighting over… him?

“Not anymore.”  To anyone else, Lotor probably sounded unphased, but Lance could hear the grit in his tone.  He flicked out his sword as he readied his stance.  Likewise, Allura readied herself before lunging forward. 

“You can’t keep him.” Allura shouted, going for an overhead whack.  Lotor dodged away, and a pillar of dust rose where Allura’s staff impacted against the ground. 

“Not your call to make, _Princess_.” Lotor replied, taking her momentarily lapse in defense and using it against her.  His foot collided with her torso and she rolled to the floor and back up in a crouch, swinging her staff as she did so.

Lotor nimbly jumped over it, but it gave Allura the time she needed to get back up on her feet. 

“If it’s Lance’s desire, I’ll let him go without a fight.”

“Then what, pray tell, do you call this?” Allura hissed. 

“A friendly spar.” Lotor replied mockingly.  He danced out of the way of Allura’s responding flurry of attacks. 

Lance would have been amused if he wasn’t so thrown by the fact that they were fighting over him.  Part of him felt oddly flattered, but another part of him just felt insulted.  He wasn’t a piece of meat to be fought over.   

Then again, Allura seemed to be the one instigating it.  Lotor had said that it was _Lance’s_ choice.  She was the one dictating that he should return to the team.  Which… no.

Just no.

“It’s Lance’s choice whether he returns to your team.  His return is not a bargaining chip on the table.”  Lotor announced to her as he parried her attack, and executing a move that sent Allura’s staff spinning out of her hands and flying off to the side. 

Weaponless, but not defenseless, Allura pursed her lips and glowered at Lotor.  “And if it’s required for an alliance?” She challenged. 

Lance’s breath was caught in his throat.  That was a pretty big ultimatum.  An alliance with Voltron would be extremely beneficial, for both parties.  For it be to called off just for him?  No matter what pretty words Lotor had told him last night, there was no way that Lotor would let an opportunity like this pass.

There a triumphant gleam in Allura’s eye despite being held at sword point that told Lance that she thought Lotor to be trapped.  Either give Lance over and accept the very nice alliance, or reject the alliance and keep Lance.

The choice was a no brainer. 

“If the alliance depends upon me forcing Lance to return to your Team,” Lotor’s words were carefully measured and kept even, yet Lance could still hear the grit from earlier.  He had to hear what Lotor would say.  He felt like his heart was both rising into his throat and sinking into his stomach.  

“Then there will be no alliance.” Lotor finished.

Lance gaped.  Allura’s triumph peaked for a second before his words registered and her triumph plummeted.  Her mouth fell open, her eyes widening.  “You would turn down an alliance with Voltron?”

“I would turn down an alliance with any who would force one of my Team into something they do not want.”  Lotor replied with no hesitation.  “Voltron or not.”

This was not a conversation Lance should be listening to.  This was a conversation that Lotor would try to hide from Lance, out of concern that it would sway Lance’s choice.  And to some degree, it did.

Lotor would never make Lance leave unless he wanted to, but if Lance rejected Team Voltron… if he refused to return… then the alliance wouldn’t happen.  He would have to return to Team Voltron for the alliance.  An alliance that both Lotor and Lance knew was beneficial. 

He would have to return to Team Voltron.

Quiznak, the realization echoed in his mind, bringing with it all the ramifications and consequences.  There was the good, which was Lotor getting a much-needed powerful alliance, but there was also so much potential for bad.

But that was just it, wasn’t it.  _Potential_ for bad. 

There was nothing saying that Lance would be tricked again.  That he would be captured.  There was no proof that Shiro was anything other than himself.   No proof of him being a traitor.  Everything was just… circumstantial. 

He felt like he couldn’t breathe.  He needed to get away, get some air, do some thinking.  He stumbled back away from the observation deck.  He felt lightheaded, he still couldn’t breathe.  The room was full of thick gas, cutting off his air supply.  He was going to return to the Voltron Team.

Quiznak, he was going to return.  And he was going to be betrayed, and Lotor wouldn’t know to come save him.  Lotor would think that Lance _chose_ to _leave_.  If Lotor knew he truly didn’t want to do it, then he wouldn’t allow it.  Lance had to make him think that he wanted to leave.  No one would save him.  No one would know to.

“I can’t go back.”  Lance whispered as his back hit against a wall.  He was in a hallway.  The damned hallway of that damned Galra base.  He could hear them searching for him.  He needed to escape, but there was no escape.  Only a chamber of gas and the promise of Druids and the Witch.

“Lance!” The guards knew his name.  They called it out as they searched for him. 

He slid down the wall, his whole body shaking, and wrapped his arms around his legs.  His nails dug into the soft bits of his armor as the guards grew closer and closer.  Gas was still filling the hallway.  Or was it a container? 

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Vrekt, a waking dream.”

He couldn’t breathe.  He couldn’t think.  He was going to be captured again and there was nothing he could do to stop it.  No one would be coming for him.  There would be no rescue.

 “A _what_?”

“Help me snap him out of it!”  Warmth enclosed around him, and his entire body stiffened.  “It’s okay, breathe, Lance, breathe.”

“There’s gas.” Lance said before promptly realizing that there wasn’t any gas.  If there was, he wouldn’t have been able to speak.  Zethrid wouldn’t be speaking.  There had been plenty of coughing when they rescued him, along with a sharp command to put helmets on.

“Gas?” A familiar voice asked.  The familiarity nagged at Lance for a full moment before he remembered that Hunk had been – still was – with Zethrid. 

“Be quiet.” Zethrid snapped to Hunk, her tone harsh and sharp for just a moment.  “There’s no gas.” Zethrid affirmed to Lance what he had already figured out, her voice a warm rumble into Lance’s ear, a sharp contrast to just second prior. She was hugging him, pulling him close to herself.  His face was nestled into her shoulder, the soft fuzz of her fur brushing against him.  “There’s no gas.  You’re safe.  Lotor won’t let them have you.”

It was unclear whether the ‘them’ that Zethrid referred to was Team Voltron or the Druids, but Lance didn’t care.  He clung to her, to her words like they were a safety line being thrown out into a dark ocean and he was a drowning swimmer.

“He’ll have to.”  Lance’s reply was a muted whisper into her thick fur.  There was pressure behind his eyes that burned all the way into his ears and throat. 

 _Gas_ , his mind irrationally screamed. He pushed past that, and tried to focus on words, on thoughts, but all he could think of was that he would have to go back to Team Voltron.  

He would be captured again, gassed again.  He would be tortured under the Druids and no one would come save him.  No one would know.  Shiro would just let it happen _again_. 

The pressure continued to build until it leaked out of his eyes, flowing down his cheeks and causing Zethrid’s fur to stick to him.  She bristled but didn’t verbally complain.   Her grip around him tightened. 

“Lance, stay with me.  Deep breaths.”  Zethrid’s command cut through the gassy fog of his mind for just a moment, and he took a deep shaking breath.  “Vrekt.  He’s a wreck.  I’m taking him to his room.”  Zethrid announced before effortlessly sweeping Lance up. 

Lance shook as he clung to her, his eyes pressed closed as he tried to center himself.  The journey might have taken a few seconds or a couple years before he was unceremoniously dumped onto his bed.  He blinked up at Zethrid, vaguely recognizing the room he was in as his own. 

“Uh, pretty sure that’s not ho–”  Hunk.

“Stay with him.” Zethrid commanded sharply.  “Try to keep him present.  I’m going to get Lotor.”

“Uh.” Hunk was here, was in his room, was staring at the door Zethrid just departed through like it was taking away his only hope.  Lance tried to laugh, but all that came out was a choked sob. 

Why was he crying again?  Why couldn’t he stop?

There was something important to Zethrid’s words, something that nagged at his mind, but every time he tried to focus on that, he saw Hunk and his mind sputtered and stuttered to a stop. 

Hunk looked back at Lance at the noise and started twisting his hands together in a signature ‘uncomfortable-Hunk’ move.  “Uh.” He repeated.

Lance sniffled and rubbed the back of his hand against his nose and grimaced at the feel of snot.  He must look like a wreck.  He had never been a beautiful crier.  Not like his sister.  She made crying look like an art, but him?  It was always ugly with bright red splotches and pale spots and red eyes and a runny nose.

“I’m fine.” He whispered.  He was not fine, a fact he was very quickly getting used to.  He was not fine and would not be fine until he could get over this dilapidating fear of being betrayed, gassed, and given to the Druids. 

This hadn’t been a problem until Team Voltron had showed up and started threatening to take him back.  Well, the Team hadn’t, but Allura definitely had.  

Lotor wouldn’t give Lance up, which meant _Lance_ needed to be the one to make the choice.  Lance had to _leave_ , and he didn’t want to.  He found safety and he wanted to cling to it. 

“Uh, no offense, but you don’t look fine.”

“Hit a man where it hurts, why don’t ya?” Lance asked. 

He stood on unsteady legs and moved towards the ensuite bathroom.  Hunk jerked towards the door as if preparing for Lance to attempt to leave.  When he noticed Lance’s true destination, he shrunk back.  To humor him, Lance kept the door open as he washed his face of the snot, tears, and Zethrid’s fur. 

Where had Zethrid gone again?  He could recall her saying, but the words were muffled, like he was underwater.  Her mouth had been moving, forming sounds that should have been familiar. 

“What happened?” Hunk asked hesitantly from the open door, peering in on Lance like Lance was an easily spooked rabbit.  “If you want to talk about it, you don’t have to, but I mean, if you want to…”  Hunk was still twisting his hands together.  “I’m here.” He finished lamely. 

Hunk’s rambling was pleasant.  It was soothing, like Kova’s purr or Zethrid’s boisterous laughter.  It was as familiar and safe as the sound of Axca’s handguns, or the whistle of Ezor’s knives.  He _missed_ it.  Missed Hunk’s nervous ramblings and twisting hands and… everything.

 _“Sometimes your Team is the reason you need to watch your back.”_ Acxa’s voice reminded him in his head. 

But this was _Hunk_.  Hunk who didn’t even want to be involved in this war in the first place.  Hunk who was tried so hard to get them to ignore the events that caused them joining this war in the first place.  Hunk who was more safe and more _home_ than anyone else on Team Voltron could ever hope to be. 

“What do you know of my last mission with Voltron?” Lance asked as he patted a towel against his face gently.  He put it down on the counter and leaned into the mirror to study his face, and also to watch Hunk’s reaction through the mirror.

Hunk shifted uncomfortably.   His gaze darted between Lance and something else inside Lance’s room.  Presumably the door.  He continued to twist and wring his hands. 

“Not much.” He admitted after a moment.  He opened his mouth as if to say more, winced, and then shut it again as if having seconds thoughts.  Lance waited another moment.  The silence seemed to stretch for far longer before Hunk finally added, “Shiro said that you insisted on taking it, and then just… stopped responding.” 

Lance’s hands curled around the towel and some small part of his brain imagined it was Shiro’s throat there instead of the towel.  He shook the thought away.  He must be spending too much time with Zethrid if she was rubbing off on him like that.

Then again, all of the Generals were like that.  They all had a _darker_ edge to them.  A backstory of trauma of some kind that lingered and lingered until it sharpened into a weapon to be used.  It wasn’t _bad_ , but it probably wasn’t _good_ either.

“Is that so?” Lance asked, his gaze meeting Hunk’s in the mirror. He was smiling, but it was too sharp, too real.  Too revealing of the cold fury burning beneath his skin at the thought of Shiro _covering up_ what happened.

“I was captured.” Lance continued without giving Hunk a chance to answer.  “Stuffed into a tiny cell and gassed to keep me complacent while I was transported.  I was going to be given to the Druids, to Zarkon’s _witch_.”  He paused and twisted around so his back was to the mirror and counter.  He leaned back against the counter, his hands still clutching the towel.

Hunk was staring at him with wide eyes.  Wide eyes of horror and sorrow and grief and regret and… this was _Hunk_. 

 _“Sometimes your Team is the reason you need to watch your back.”_ Acxa reminded him once more.

There were three type of people in the world.  People who were _Safe_ , people who were _Unsafe_ , and people who were neither. 

Most people fell into the neither category.  They weren’t _Unsafe_ , but they weren’t _Safe_ either.  Narti, Ezor, Acxa, Zethrid, Keith, Pidge, Allura, Coran… they all fell into this category.   Shiro fell squarely into _Unsafe_ , as far as Lance was concerned right now – even if he didn’t have any _proof_ – and Hunk…

Hunk was S _afe_. 

“Lance, I–”

“Not your fault.” Lance cut him off.  He bounced off the counter and took a deep breath.  “It’s not your fault.” He repeated.  It was Shiro’s, and that was something Lance would have to prove.  That was Lance’s battle, yet despite knowing that, the words still escaped before he could stop them.  “ _Shiro_ insisted I took the mission.”

Hunk’s entire body froze, but Lance could see the gears turning in his head.  Hunk was a smart cookie, smarter than Lance, and definitely smarter than most people gave him credit for. 

Lance fished out the datachip that he had been sent to recover – It was almost always on him – and passed it to Hunk.  “I was sent to recover this.”  He gave Hunk a meaningful look and passed by him into his room just as the door opened.

Lotor’s gaze immediately met Lance’s and Lance’s mind screeched to a halt as he finally realized what it was that Zethrid had said as she left. 

She was going to get Lotor and now Lotor was here.

Quiznak.  Lotor couldn’t know about this, about what set him off.  He couldn’t. 

“Lance.” Lotor’s voice was honey warm, sticky and sweet.  Concern leaked through like a broken faucet, apparently not just in his tone, but also in the furrow of his eyebrow and hesitant way he stood in the doorway.  He licked his lips, a sign of nervousness that Lotor didn’t normally show.  “Zethrid said you had another Waking Dream?”

“He’s been fine since Zethrid brought him here.” Hunk said, standing close enough that Lance could feel him. 

Lotor’s focus switched to Hunk with a dizzying speed, his entire stance changing within less than a second.  His eyes narrowed as he surveyed Lance’s friend, and Lance knew Lotor well enough to know that he was judging him for a threat. 

Lance smiled and slung an arm around Hunk’s shoulders, ignoring the way both men tensed at the action.  “Hunk’s been keeping me company.  I’m good.”  

Lotor’s eyes narrowed a fraction more and stepped further into the room.  “Zethrid’s outside.  Perhaps she can take you to the rest of your Team?  I believe they’re having breakfast in the kitchen.” Lotor ‘suggested’ to Hunk; not kindly, but not unkindly either. 

Hunk nodded but didn’t make any movement until Lance gently hip checked him.  “I’m fine with Lo.” Lance assured him with a smile.  “You could say we’re… close.” He held up crossed fingers and winked. 

Understanding dawned upon Hunk in the form of flush cheeks.  He cleared his throat and dunked under Lance’s arm.  “Right.” He said, with a nod.  “Right, okay.  Uh, I guess I’ll be going then, with Zethrid to the kitchen to meet up with the rest of our Team.”

 _“Your Team_.” The correction was on the tip of Lance’s tongue, but he held it back.  Lance would be rejoining Team Voltron – fuck, he would be rejoining Team Voltron, and now so wasn’t the time to have another anxiety attack over that fact. 

Hunk skirted past Lotor and as the doors slid closed, Lance could hear him talking to Zethrid.

It was just Lance and Lotor now.

Lance didn’t so much as sit on his bed as he just fell.  He sighed and looked up at Lotor who was just silently watching him.

Was Lance dealing with Lotor his partner, or Lotor his boss?  He didn’t know.  He was too tired to know.  He trained his gaze on the ground and tried to pretend it was more interesting than Lotor.  He sighed again and waited for Lotor to speak.

“Are you alright?” Lotor asked, stepping forward until he was standing before Lance.  The question wasn’t entirely surprising.  Of course Lotor would first ask after his wellbeing. 

“I’m fine.” Lance stated.  He still wasn’t.  He probably wouldn’t be until he put this behind him, until he found the proof that he needed.  Until he was given _closure_.

Lotor’s responding silence spoke of his belief of Lance’s words.  He sighed and took a seat next to Lance, and gently touched him.

Lance always liked how Lotor touched him.  Like he was glass, like he was fragile, like he was something _precious_.  It was nice to be thought of that way sometimes.  Gentle was not something found in the Galra dictionary, yet Lotor tried for him.  Because of him.

He took Lance’s chin and carefully made Lance look up at him.  His ears were drooping down, his eyebrows furrowed.  “Lance.” Lotor said, and it was all Lance needed before he pressed himself into Lotor’s chest.  His arms fell around Lance, holding him securely.

“I’m fine.” Lance insisted into Lotor’s chest.

“Of course.” Lotor agreed, his hand sliding up and down Lance’s back.  They were both quiet for a good long moment before Lotor broke the silence. “They won’t be here for much longer.”  He assured Lance.  “We just need to answer their questions and they’ll be off.”

Lance noted how ‘securing an alliance’ wasn’t on that incredibly short list.  Presumably because Lotor had already written that off.  He wasn’t going to bring it up to Lance.  Why would he when he knew how scared Lance was of being forced back?

He didn’t want Lance to feel pressured into rejoining Voltron for the alliance, which would have been sweet, if it wasn’t for the fact he was keeping something from Lance.  Then again, he knew that Lotor did that.

Lotor rarely lied, but he misdirected and omitted information plenty enough.   This was just another example of that.

Lance sighed and pulled away from the hug.  “We should join up with everyone.  They’ll be wanting to start the meeting.”

Lotor’s lips were pressed into thin lines as he surveyed Lance.  He cupped Lance’s cheek and rubbed his thumb against his cheek bones.  “Remember, if you don’t want to return to them, then you won’t.”  Lotor reminded him.

For a moment Lance thought he _knew_ that Lance knew about Allura’s demand.  But no, he was just reminding Lance of their conversation last night.  When Lance had his first ‘waking dream’, when Lance confided that he was scared of returning, of being captured.

“I know.” Lance whispered.

He didn’t want to return to them, but he had to.  For the alliance, for closure, for _proof_.   Fear tugged at Lance and out of the corner of his eye he saw the smoke of gas curling into the air from under the door.  He ignored it and focused on Lotor.

Focused on the warm hand on his face, the gentle slope of his eyebrows, the concern in his eyes, the curve of his mouth.  Focused on the droop of his ears, in the steadiness of his breath.  Focused on _Lotor_. 

“I love you.” Lance whispered.  The words sounded like ‘ _I’m sorry, forgive me’_ to Lance.  He reached up and chastely kissed Lotor, allowing himself to just enjoy the moment.  To enjoy the feel of Lotor’s lips against his own.  To enjoy the comfort and security of Lotor’s presence.

Lotor’s arm curled around him, trying to keep Lance near; as if he knew that Lance would be leaving him.  He couldn’t have, but it still felt like that.

“The meeting.” Lance reminded him. 

Lotor’s gaze was still fixed on Lance, staring at him as if he was some wonder of the universe.  He licked his lips, slowly, no doubt tasting Lance on them.  “You’ve had coffee.”  There was a delightful rumble to his voice.

“It’s no Kanki.” Lance teased. 

“It seldom is.” Lotor agreed.  “But it’s tolerable with you.”  He leaned back in and kissed Lance again.  This kiss wasn’t as chaste, and Lance couldn’t say that he minded.

He wished he could just bubble this moment up and keep it with him forever.  He wished he could just stay in this moment, but he knew reality didn’t allow for that.  Reality would never trap him in a happy moment, but in moments of terror and fear.

Reality was a bitch like that.

“The meeting, Lo.”  Lance reminded him yet again.  Lotor sighed and rested his forehead against Lance’s. 

“They can wait a moment longer.” Lotor said, but Lance knew they both knew that not to be true.  Lance laughed and stood up, slipping too easily from Lotor’s hold. 

“Keith doesn’t even know how to use the word ‘wait’ in a sentence.” Lance joked.  “We should go before they come looking for us.”

Lotor sighed heavily and nodded.  “Fine.”  He said, before standing and heading to the door.  He paused in front of it and looked to Lance.  Once more he cupped Lance’s face and stroked his cheek.  “You’re sure you’re fine?”

“I will be.” Lance promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the lack of updates lately. It was Ghost's birthday this past friday, May 17, and I had to pick up her mom from the airport as a surprise to Ghost. Her visit didn't allow much for writing. I've also been worried about Gizmo, my kitty, because he's showing signs of having bladder stones again, and the vet I wanted to take him to canceled due to a death in the family. Which is understandable, but still frustrating. 
> 
> Beyond that, I've just been unmotivated with Voltron lately. I'm sorry.


	7. Chapter 7

Apparently, everyone had moved to a meeting room more befitting alliance talks than a kitchen.  In the center of the table there were some finger foods: little fruits on toothpicks and breakfast cookies.  There were pitchers of water and already filled glasses for everyone on the table.  

It honestly looked like a bona fide office meeting.

Shiro still hoarded his cup of space coffee.  The steam whiffing off of it spoke of how recently it had been poured.  The sour look Ezor was giving him spoke of him taking advantage of the Ylik that Lance had shown him.

Hunk had already drunk half of his water and was drumming his fingers along on the table in a rhythmic manner.  Beside him, Pidge looked annoyed as she messed with one of Team Voltron’s phone-like devices.  Lance wondered if her annoyance was from Hunk’s tapping, or something on the device.

Keith’s sharp gaze had been solely on Shiro, but the moment Lance stepped through the door with Lotor, it was immediately upon him.  He forced himself to ignore it, just as he had in the kitchen. 

“Is everything alright?” Allura asked pleasantly, sitting between Shiro and Pidge.  Despite the pleasant smile and tone of her voice, there was something about the question that grated Lance’s nerves. 

There was an empty seat at the table to the left of Acxa and directly across from Allura.  Lotor took that seat, as expected.  That left two open spots for Lance.  One between Lotor and Ezor, sitting to Lotor’s left… or one between Keith and Ezor. 

Given his status as a former member of Team Voltron and a current member of Lotor’s team, he imagined he could sit between Keith and Ezor with no issue…

He sat beside Lotor and ignored the barely noticeable frowns of four fifths of Team Voltron – Hunk didn’t frown because he was too busy staring at his water, and even if he had been paying attention, he knew that Lance at least implied that he and Lotor were a thing.  Keith bristled like Lance choosing to sit between Lotor and Ezor instead of Ezor and him was a personal affront.

Well, excuse Lance for not wanting to sit with someone who had been so aggressive towards his presence. 

“Everything is fine.”  Lotor replied with an equally pleasant smile.  “I had to see to some concerns.” 

It might have been Lance’s imagination, but he swore that Allura’s gaze darted towards him for just a second.  Of course she figured Lance was involved since Lotor had come in with Lance and they were the last to arrive. 

But did she know what really going on?  What had Zethrid told Lotor when she got him?  Were he and Allura still fighting when Zethrid got there? 

He glanced at Zethrid, but she gave him no visual clues.  She was giving the ‘desire to maul, maim, and destroy’ glare across the table at Keith.  Had something happened there, or was Zethrid just tired of Keith?

“Perhaps you should share those concerns?” Allura asked with all the sweetness of antifreeze. 

Hunk glanced in Lance’s direction and then quickly looked back away.  His tapping continued with increased frequency.  Pidge’s frown deepened.

“I hardly find it relevant to the conversation at hand.” Lotor rebuffed before continuing with what _was_ relevant.   “I’ve supplied to you the data that you helped us obtain during the last mission, and I once again extend my gratitude for the assistance.  Should we be amendable, I feel the successful mission and cooperation of our teams will lay a fine groundwork for an alliance between us.”

“Should we be amendable, I would agree.” Allura said. 

Translation: they were **_not_** amendable.

“Then we’re amendable.  Great.  Can we talk about Lance now?” Keith cut in, not-to-politely shredding apart the thin veil of diplomacy that Allura and Lotor had been attempting to entertain in his impatience.

It was an event that wasn’t unusual for the Voltron team.  Keith was known for his impatience far more than his aggressiveness – although he could get aggressive in his impatience.  It was not usual for Lotor’s crew, and their reactions to Keith’s interruption varied from amusement to annoyance. 

Ezor’s lips were pursed together to keep herself from laughing.  Acxa was giving Keith a discrete disdainful look.  Zethrid half smiled, showing off the gleam of her teeth in a very not friendly way.  Lotor leaned back into his seat and raised an eyebrow at the princess as if to ask, ‘you’ll allow the outburst?’. 

Narti and Lance were the only ones from this side of the table to not show a reaction. 

Shiro hissed something to Keith, too quietly for Lance to properly make out, but he thought it might have been a half-hearted scold.  Allura’s smile had done a complete 180, the frown she was now sporting a perfect upside-down mirror to the smile of earlier.  Hunk took another sip of his water and continued tapping.  Pidge looked increasingly annoyed.

Lance didn’t really blame her.  Hunk’s tapping, while rhythmic, was very repetitive: _Tap, double tap, tap, tap, double tap, double tap, tap, tap._ No one else seemed to be giving Hunk or Pidge any attention.  Keith was taking periodic breaks in his glaring at Lotor’s team and Lance to glare at Hunk instead.  Lance made a mental estimation that if Hunk kept up his current tapping rate, Keith was going to blow well before the meeting even reached its halfway point.

“Keith has a point.”  Allura didn’t _say_ so much as _ground out_ , her smile fixed back in place like it had never disappeared.

If they weren’t in the middle of _Serious Alliance Talks_ ™, Lance would have let out a low whistle of appreciation.  Allura admitting that Keith had a point must have been hard for her.  He was impressed. 

She leaned forward, clasping her hands on the table, trying to pretend like Keith’s interruption hadn’t ruffled her feathers. “I believe it prudent to learn as to how your team came across _our_ missing Paladin.  If I recall, it was decided that it was a topic better broached in the morning.”

“And it’s past morning now.”  Keith grumbled, just barely audibly. Shiro let out a short, shallow sigh that sounded suspiciously like Keith’s name.

Lotor didn’t take his eyes off Allura, but his foot knocked against Lance’s.  Lance wasn’t entirely sure if it was to offer support or a warning.  With Lotor, it was always a tossup. 

“While I am familiar with the details as to how Lance came into possession of the Empire, I feel it prudent to allow him to explain himself,” Lotor paused maybe half a second, “if that would suit you?”

Ah.  Warning _and_ attention.  _Great_.  Everyone’s attention seemed to shift from the subtle political game being played by Allura and Lotor to Lance. 

“Quite.” Allura beamed.  “Lance, how did you end up with such… company?”

Lance wasn’t sure he appreciated the barely noticeable hesitation before the word ‘company’.  Someone’s rampant racism towards the Galra was showing.  She might want to keep that in check considering the _company_.

He almost voiced that too.  Almost being the imperative word there.  He only reason he didn’t was because he was going to be playing a very dangerous game here soon by rejoining the team.  No need for him to antagonize more than necessary.

But if he didn’t antagonize at all, well, that was just out of character.  That being said, he had to think over what exactly he told everyone.

Hunk and Lotor – and probably Acxa – knew the details of his capture.  Knew that it was Shiro who insisted that Lance take the mission.  Thanks to Hunk, Lance know knew that Shiro was saying that _Lance_ insisted that he took the mission. 

If he told the truth, Shiro would contest it and well, compared to Shiro, who would believe poor little Lancey Lance?  Best to just.. gloss over that.  Start not at the beginning but close enough. 

“It was supposed to be a simple mission, as you know.  Get in, get info, get out.  Easy peasey, lemon squeezy.” Lance shrugged nonchalantly. 

“So easy you got caught?” Pidge asked, arching an eyebrow in a way that never failed to make Lance feel insignificant or stupid.   Except now, apparently.  Mostly because Lance was too busy distracted by the sudden stop in Hunk’s tapping as he shot a look at Pidge.

It was almost as if… no.  That was crazy.  Hunk couldn’t be tapping out something to Pidge.  The only thing Lance thought it could be was Morse Code, and well, thanks to easy side classes at the Garrison, Lance knew Morse code.

Nothing of what Hunk had been tapping had set off alarms.  He had thought it to be harmless annoying tapping until this moment.

So Lance was probably reading too much into it. 

Yeah.  It was just Lance being paranoid.  Hunk was just giving Pidge a sour look because she interrupted Lance’s story.  That was all.  Unease prickled under his skin, the feeling of missing _something_ nagging at him. 

Lotor’s foot nudged his and Lance cleared his throat.

“Notice I said ‘supposed’ to be.” Lance said to Pidge.  He wasn’t really in a position to look at Shiro, but that was alright. 

“What happened?” Shiro asked, his eyebrows knitting together in what looked like genuine concern.  If it actually was genuine, Lance couldn’t say for sure.  Shiro was the team leader, of course he wanted to know what exactly happened.

Too bad Lance wasn’t in the mood for details.

“Not sure.”  Lance replied with another shrug.  “It wasn’t anything at all like I expected.  I was captured, and was probably gonna be taken to Central Command, you know, until Lotor’s crew intercepted the message and rescued me.”

“So they planned to rescue you.” Allura assumed.  It sounded less like a question and more like a statement of fact.  Which, it wasn’t. 

“No?” Lance half laughed as he shook his head.  “From what I’ve been told, all they heard was that Haggar – Zarkon’s Witch – had a new toy to play with; and Lotor has a big enough bone to pick with her that he decided to ruin her day by taking it away.  Surprise, surprise; the toy was me.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Lance saw Lotor finally take his eyes off Allura to shoot Lance a look.  Had they not been in the middle of _Serious Alliance Talks_ ™, Lance would have returned the look with a deliberate eyebrow raise. 

He wasn’t wrong, and everyone on Lotor’s team knew it. 

There were universal, undeniable facts about Lotor:

  1. He liked Seski fruit, and Seski fruit flavored things to the point that it was best to hide them if one wanted to save them for later.
  2. His preferred drink was Kanki, no matter the time of day or event.
  3. He had a hate-boner for Haggar and would go out of his way to purposely ruin her day whenever possible.



Lance wasn’t sure why number three was a thing, but it was.  It just was. And it happened to save Lance’s life, so he didn’t really care to dissect it too much. 

Pidge snorted, but didn’t say anything.

Hunk had resumed his tapping once Pidge returned to her tablet, but he paused at her reaction and shot her another look.  Lance desperately wished to be in-the-know on what was going on there.  He would have been keeping better tabs on the tapping, but that was a tad difficult when telling a story; no matter how vague Lance tried to keep it.

Allura looked as if she was going to question further, but Shiro leaned forward so he could look down the table better at Lance and asked, “Did you get the data?”

And well, wasn’t that a loaded question?  Lance’s insides squirmed and it took every ounce of will inside him _not_ to give himself away.  He dropped his gaze, acting as if he were ashamed or embarrassed to give his answer. 

“No.”  Hunk’s tapping paused again, this time in response to Lance’s definitive answer.  Pidge looked up, her eyes narrowed as she looked between Shiro and Lance.  Lance noted their reactions, seeing as Hunk and Lance should have been the _only_ ones to know about the data drive Lance had gotten. 

Why had Pidge reacted unless… unless Hunk’s tapping _was_ a message to her.  Something that presumably only the two of them could understand.  Some kind of techno babble perhaps?

“That’s unfortunate.” Shiro said, settling back into his seat.  Lance’s eye twitched.  _Unfortunate._ Yeah, that was one way to put it.

“And the Bayard?” Allura asked, not unkindly. 

Lance shrugged, still looking down at the table.  “Lost it.  Probably at the base still if you guys don’t have it.”

“Or it was left with the Galra.”  The subtle accusation that Lotor left it when he rescued Lance was not overly subtle.  Allura could probably do with some more diplomacy and politic lessons.

“Couldn’t say.”  Lance replied.  He leaned back in his seat.  He said all he was going to say.  He went on the mission, found more resistance than expected, was captured, and then rescued by Lotor.  The end.

“If it was left at the base, then one could assume it was left with the _Empire_ anyways.” Ezor commented with a little one shouldered shrug as she examined her nails. 

“So why didn’t you come back?”  There was almost a whiny quality to Keith’s voice that Lance _almost_ missed, if only because he knew that it meant that Keith cared. 

“You don’t think I tried?” Lance shot back. 

Lotor cleared his throat and quickly took back over.   “My team attempted to locate Voltron to return Lance; however, your Coalition’s _friendly_ disposition towards Galra-made ships made that difficult, despite the known civil war.”  Lotor smiled at Keith in a way that Lance read as ‘eat shit and die’.  Not that anyone other than Lotor’s team could probably read that.

Huh.  Lotor’s team just did not seem to like Keith. 

“Why?” Keith asked at the same time Allura chimed in with a, “You were planning to return Lance?”  Which was really the same question just asked differently.  Lotor exhaled sharply and quietly through his nose and offered a placating smile. 

“ _At the time_ ,” Lotor emphasized, “it was my hope that by returning Lance, I could secure an alliance between us.  The enemy of my enemy is my friend, and I feel we can all agree that my father is the enemy.”

“At the time.” Shiro parroted quietly, as if in thought.  Keith visible stiffened and sunk down into what Lance often thought of as the ‘attack’ stance. 

“What do you mean ‘ _at the time_ ’?” Keith snapped.  It was hard to tell due to Lance’s position, but he had been around Keith long enough to know when he was going to get… aggressive.  Normally Lance would be all for egging him on.

But these were _Serious Alliance Talks_ ™, and therefore no place for any such foolishness.  Shiro seemed to agree as he let out another quiet hiss that could have been Keith’s name if one used imagination – or was close enough to properly hear – and rested his hand on Keith’s arm.

It was enough to deflate Keith, who sunk back into the chair, his gaze leaving Lance and Hunk to look down at Shiro’s hand on him. 

Shiro always did have a magic touch when it came to handling Keith.

Allura ignored both Keith and Shiro.  “You hoped to leverage Lance against us for an alliance?” She barked out, letting go of the veil of diplomacy for a second. 

Lance wanted to laugh.  Like she hadn’t threatened the same?  Lance heard her and Lotor fighting before.  She wouldn’t allow an alliance if he didn’t rejoin Voltron.

Just like he knew Lotor would never allow him to leave unless he thought it was truly Lance’s uninfluenced choice.

Which meant that Lance needed to tread very carefully with how he did things.  He was _happy_ with Lotor, and the last thing he wanted was to irrevocably ruin what he had here just because he needed something as stupid as _closure_.

Like, of course he knew that realistically speaking, it was probably all just a horrible coincidence.  Shiro was probably just as much a victim as Lance.  He probably didn’t plan for Lance to be captured.  Why would he?

He was Shiro, the Black Paladin and leader of Voltron.  Why would he sabotage his own team?

But no matter how much Lance told himself this, he knew he wouldn’t ever get over this until he knew for sure.  Until he was certain. 

“I hoped to offer his safe return as a gift of good faith.” Lotor continued to argue with Allura.  “And if an alliance were to spring from that gift, then I would be receptive.” 

“So then I can expect Lance to be returned to his _rightful_ place as the Blue Paladin?” Allura asked, raising her chin in an action that inadvertently had her raising her nose into the air like a stuffy snotty princess.  Which was only kind of ironic considering she was a princess.

Or former princess.

Did she still count as a princess when there were only like three of her people left, and one of them was only half Altean and the ~~exiled~~ prince of her race’s enemy?

… Questions to ponder later.  Preferably when there wasn’t an argument over his fate going on before him.

“His _rightful_ place is where he chooses to be.”  Lotor grit out, finally showing his own annoyance and aggravation.   “I won’t force a team shift on him if it is not what he wants.”

“Why wouldn’t Lance want to come back?”  Keith demanded.  He leaned forward, looking around Ezor at Lance. 

“It’s not about what _he_ **wants**.  It’s about what the _Universe_ **needs**.” Allura raised her voice, both her tone and eyes steely and absolute. 

Lotor bristled, either at her complete disregard of Lance’s agency or at her belief that she and Voltron were doing what the Universe needed.  Of course, Lance had thought the same, once upon a time.  But he knew better now.

There was no doubting that the Galra Empire needed to go.  The question that needed be reviewed was ‘how’. 

If Voltron continued on their single-minded path to just destroy the Galra empire, millions of people would suffer.  Yes, millions were suffering under the Galra, but there were just as many who were either flourishing or had no basis anymore for their own government.  Removing the Galra Empire without a back up support structure would only lead to anarchy and destruction via crumbling governmental support structures.

Lotor planned to help support them.  To move the Empire into less aggressive waters.  To teach it to support planets.  To allow planets to create their own governments and govern themselves with the Empire just offering support when needed. 

Maybe Lotor wasn’t the best choice – Lance couldn’t say for sure without knowing more choices – but between the two choices presented of Allura’s single-minded destruction and Lotor’s support, Lance knew what the _better_ option was.

Not that that was the debate currently.  No, the current debate was whether Lance would return to Voltron or not.  He didn’t want to, but Allura was right about him _needing_ to, at least for right now. 

He took a deep breath and steeled himself.  He gripped the armrests of the chair as he readied himself.  Ezor gave him a long side glance, her gaze dipping down to the white knuckles of his hands and then back up to his face.  Under the table, Lance could feel her kick Acxa.

“Woah, woah, guys.” Lance interrupted the argument before it could get any worse, letting go of the armrests to pat the air on top of the table in a placating manner.  “I’ve already made my decision, and if it’s really my choice,”  Lance looked at Lotor, “then I chose Voltron.”

Looking at Lotor was a mistake.  As soon as the words left Lance’s mouth, he saw Lotor’s composure break.  His mouth parted, his eyes widened, and his ears dropped.  He looked gutted, like this was a worst-case scenario nightmare that he was living out.

It immediately made Lance feel guilty and horrible.  He had been telling Lotor that he didn’t want to leave – because he didn’t – and now he was saying otherwise.  He felt like crap.  Was closure worth this?

Zethrid’s response was just as immediate.  An explosion of words and sound to put one of Keith’s outbursts to shame.  “Are you kidding me!?”  She snapped at him, throwing her hands against the table and half standing. 

Ezor’s response was just as heart breaking.  It was barely audible due to Zethrid’s reaction, but Ezor’s quiet little “why?” still broke Lance’s heart. 

“Are you sure?” Acxa asked, leaning forward.  She studied him, like she could see the reason for his choice on his face. 

Narti had no immediate response, but she tended to be more of an observer than an active participant at these kind of events anyways.  If she had any thoughts or reactions, then she would probably share them after the meeting. 

“Lotor, you can’t-” Zethrid started to argue, only to be cut off by a sharp look from Lotor as he worked on regaining composure.  She slowly sank back into her chair, and crossed her arms. 

“It’s Lance’s choice.”  Regaining composure or not, he still looked – and sounded – pained as he spoke the words.

Team Voltron was not without reactions.  Keith settled back into his chair, apparently placated by Lance’s return.  Both Hunk and Pidge paused in their super-secret techno conversation to stare at Lance in surprise.

Allura smiled at him and nodded, like him breaking Lotor’s heart – and his own – was really the correct decision.  “That’s good to hear, Lance.”

“It’ll be good to have you back.”  Shiro agreed.  He too leaned back in his seat, his body at ease in a way that it hadn’t been since they arrived here. 

“But…”  Ezor started, looking between Lance and Lotor.  Lotor gave no indication of noticing her.  Under the table, Lance felt Acxa kick Ezor.  Over the table, Acxa gave Ezor a patented ‘drop it’ look.  Ezor, unsurprisingly, dropped it.

Lotor cleared his throat.  “Since Lance has agreed to returning to Voltron, I believe we have an accord.”  Lance couldn’t think of a time where he heard Lotor sound so… defeated.  He hid it well enough that Lance couldn’t imagine Voltron noticed.

But he did. And it hurt.

Allura smiled like a cat getting the cream.  “I too find that we’re in agreement.  Shall we discuss further terms of our alliance?”

The alliance that Lance secured by rejoining Voltron.  That he secured by hurting Lotor and his team.  Fuck. Vrekt.  Quiznak. 

Lance leaned back into his seat and closed his eyes as he took shallow breaths through his nose and out his mouth. 

What was he doing?  What the hell had he done?  Was closure worth this?  Was it?

He opened his eyes and saw the occupants of the other side of the table staring at him.

Fury burned in Zethrid’s glare.  Fury that Lance deserved.  He had wormed his way into their team, into their friendship, into their leader’s bed and heart.. only to turn around and basically throw that back in their faces.

He couldn’t stand the guilt, and his gaze flickered to Pidge and Hunk.  They had yet to return to their conversation.  Pidge was staring at him with something akin to suspicion, but Hunk was… pitying him.  He didn’t want or need that.

He made his bed, and he would lie in it.

But for as much as their looks annoyed him, they only reinforced that he made the right choice.  If he was right and Shiro was a traitor, then he would find out or die trying.  He would make sure that no one else would be subjected to a back stab from their team leader.

~

In Lance’s experience, after diplomatic or alliance meetings, the members lingered to talk after.  It would probably be expected here as well.  Which was something he dreaded as the meeting came to a close. 

Once the meeting was over, all bets were off the table.  There wasn’t a need for continued diplomacy or even tempers.  There was no thin veil of society to protect him. 

Ezor rested her hand on the back of Lance’s chair as she stood, and after a moment, dropped it down to his shoulder to squeeze for a second.  And then she was gone, moving away and around the table to hopefully intercept Zethrid before she could make her way over to him.

Ezor was good like that. 

Sure enough, he heard her voice join against Zethrid’s just a few ticks later, complaining about being cramped or tired from sitting all day or something. 

Lance eyed the doors that led out of the meeting room and tried to estimate how long it would take him to reach their relative safety.  He just wanted to escape. Lance wanted to just dart to the door and escape. 

Escape from the fact he agreed to rejoin Voltron.  Escape from the fact he might have burned bridges with Lotor and his team.   Escape from the fact this was realistically probably for nothing.   Escape from the fact that if he was right, then Shiro – his ~~former~~ hero, friend, and current leader – was a _traitor_.

And if he was… then why had he singled out Lance? Why try to trap him?  He wasn’t anything special to Voltron besides being the Blue Paladin.  He wasn’t the hacker, or engineer.  He wasn’t the leader or his second in command.  He was just… Lance.

Just a boy from Cuba. Nothing special.

“Lance.”  The uncharacteristic soft and quiet sound of Lotor’s voice sent Lance’s stomach into attempting to impersonate a pretzel.  Lance looked at the prince, and mentally winced at the confusion on Lotor’s face.

Lotor wasn’t the type to air personal conversations, especially in front of new allies.  He wouldn’t bring up anything now, but that wouldn’t stop him from asking if they could talk.  Lotor licked his lips and opened his mouth to speak.

“I’m glad to have you back with us, Lance.  The team hasn’t been the same without you.”  Allura said from behind him, and Lance jumped, spinning around in his chair to blink up at her.  She smiled at him, looking like everything was all right in the Universe.  She peered at Lotor, still sitting next to Lance, and her smile brightened.  “I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?”

Words erupted in Lance’s mind.  A cacophony of ‘no’ and ‘yes’ and everything in between resounding clearly in his mind, bubbling up his throat and choking him.

Someone’s hand touched his; warm, comforting and anchoring.  Lance didn’t need to look to know it was Lotor.  He could hear him speaking, perhaps replying to Allura, or maybe asking Lance something. Lance wasn’t sure.  His head was in a fishbowl filled with water. 

He wretched his hand away and hastily stood.  “I’m going to go pack.”  He said before all but running from the meeting room.  He didn’t slow down until he was back in his room – not his room anymore – and only then did he allow himself to press his back against the wall and slide down. 

He pressed his face into his knees and took ugly heavy gasping breaths.  “This is stupid.” Lance muttered to himself sometime later when he could finally breath easily.  Stupid, but apparently necessary. 

If he was right – and that was a pretty big ‘if’ – and something happened to Hunk, Pidge, or hell, even Keith, Lance would never forgive himself.  And if he was wrong, well, that would put him at ease, and everything would be better.

It was a win-win situation.  Except for him having to go _back_ to Voltron and face his fears.  Except for him hurting Lotor. 

“I don’t want to go.”  Lance whispered.  “But it’s not about what I want.”  Because it wasn’t about what he wanted.  It was about what he needed, and he needed to do this.  No matter how much it sucked, no matter how much it hurt.  He needed to do this, and he had to deal.

He just needed to… deal.

~

He didn’t have time to deal.  Allura worked out the alliance to the favor of them having to leave within a day or so as compared to the normal weeklong event that alliance creations usually detailed. 

Lance wasn’t sure if he appreciated or hated this. 

On one hand, it meant that his goodbyes to the other team wasn’t going to be a long drawn out affair.  But on the other hand, it meant that he was going back to Voltron sooner.   He probably should have been going to Lotor’s team to say his goodbyes, yet he couldn’t find it within himself to do it.

He was a coward. 

Not a complete coward, because a complete coward wouldn’t have gone back to Voltron at all.  But enough of a coward to avoid facing teammates, both old and new alike.

He knew just the place to avoid people too. 

The window was cold as it pressed against the side of Lance’s body.  He was curled up into the alcove he had taken shelter in when he had been formally brought into Lotor’s team.  The sky outside wasn’t showing the stars this time, but it was no less comforting.

In some ways, the cold seeping into his body from the window was a comfort.  It reminded him of better days with Blue, when things were simpler and happier. 

Everything was so much better before that one stupid fateful mission.  Go in, kill the Galra, free the Planets, defeat Zarkon, go home.  So simple, so easy. 

There was the sound of footsteps nearing the alcove, and Lance sent up a quiet mental prayer that they continued on like all past footsteps had.  Only Lotor really knew that Lance favored this place when upset or needing to think.  He had been safe so far.

Even if Lotor wanted to talk.  And why wouldn’t he want to talk?  Surely, he wanted to know why Lance was leaving him. 

Quiznak, Lance had made such a big mess of everything.

“You’ve been avoiding us.” Keith said as the footsteps came to a stop. 

Of course, Lance’s luck had to runout eventually.

“I’ve been avoiding everyone.” Lance said, not bothering to look up or move to acknowledge Keith’s presence.  “And I’ll be back on the Castle ship soon enough.” 

“If you didn’t really want to come back, why did you?”

“I don’t want to say goodbye.” Lance hastily corrected, hoping that Keith wouldn’t catch on to how correct his question had been.  In the reflection of the window, he could see Keith’s skeptical look. 

Keith crossed his arms, his eyes narrowed as he watched Lance for a moment.  “Allura says we’ll be leaving soon.”

Lance flinched at the reminder and told himself that he was doing the team a favor by keeping his distance.  It would help make the break easier, his departure less jarring.  Or so he hoped.

“She left something in your room.”  Keith said before he turned on his heel and left.  Lance sighed.

~

Lance stared at the Paladin armor sitting neatly on bed.  Clean, fresh, _weak, and heavy_ Paladin armor.

The door closed behind him and Lance fell back against it, staring at his old armor like it was a poisonous snake about to strike. 

There was nothing that made his return to Voltron as real as changing back into the armor that was possibly shared with a traitor.  He would need to leave his current armor behind.  Shed and cast it and everything it represented away.  To shed any identification with Lotor.  To shed his colors, his team, his protection… everything.

He closed his eyes and dropped his head against the door.  There was a burning pressure behind his eyes and in his ears and throat that had his mind screaming ‘GAS’ even if he knew it was just pure emotion. 

“I don’t want to do this.” Lance whispered.

“Then why are you?” Ezor asked. 

Lance’s eyes shot up and his entire body jerked as he stared at her as she shimmered into view.  She was sitting next to the armor, her long legs stretched out and crossed.  She rested her head on her hands, her elbow on her knee. 

“What are you doing here?” Lance snapped. 

“Waiting for you.”  She replied.  She sat up and clasped her hands over her knee.  “Sooo… if you don’t want to do this, why are you?”  She asked, her gaze sharp and cutting. 

Lance sighed.  There was no point in hiding much from Ezor.  She was a snoop by nature and when combined with her race’s innate ability to turn invisible, it made her a formidable intelligence/information gathering agent.

“I have to.”

Ezor’s eyes narrowed at Lance’s response.   “No…”  She said slowly, like Lance was a toddler who didn’t understand.  “No, you don’t.  Lotor made that abundantly clear at—"

“Allura wasn’t going to settle for an alliance unless I rejoined Voltron.” Lance cut Ezor off, and her mouth closed with an audible click. 

He watched his words sink in, the realization washing over her entire body, and he waited.  From outside his door, he could hear the sounds of other people passing through the hallways.  He thought he heard Hunk and Acxa’s voice, but he couldn’t hear what they were saying.  

He could take a guess at the thoughts running through Ezor head.  The calculations and estimations and ‘what-if’s of the situation.  She winced as she finally came to same decision that Lance had.  The alliance needed to happen. Which meant Lance had to leave.

“Did Lotor know that?” She demanded, and when Lance refused to answer, her eyes widened in realization.  “He did, but he doesn’t know you know.”  She whispered.  “Because if he did…”

“He’d never let me go.” Lance finished with a grim nod. 

Ezor let out a low whistle.  “Quite the mess you’ve gotten yourself into.”  She paused and glanced at the armor and then at Lance, her gaze was still calculative, and Lance wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

“But there’s more to it.”  She declared a moment later.  “You’ve been too much of a wreck for this to be just about a broken relationship.”

“I’m not a wreck.”  Lance argued indignantly, although it was pointless.  They both knew the truth. 

“Gas.” Lance’s protests fell silent at that one word.  His muscles were both frozen and shaking.  His gaze somehow slipped from Ezor to fall upon the armor, and it was like his entire world was fading out.  There was shouting in the hall, it sounded like Keith and Zethrid, no, like Galra soldiers looking for him. 

“Zethrid told me you had a Waking Dream.”  Ezor said, suddenly in front of him.  He was on the floor, when had he sunk to the floor, and one of her hands was on his face.  “And the end of a relationship wouldn’t trigger something like that.”

That being what he had just gone through.

“I’m fine!” He snapped as he pushed her away.  He wrapped his arms around himself and was disturbed to find that he was still shaking. 

“No.”  Ezor said.  “You’re not.  You were about to go into an episode before I revealed myself; how quickly you fell into the episode just now proves that.  There’s more to why you _have_ to do this.”

“The alliance –”

“Isn’t worth this!” Ezor interrupted.  “You wouldn’t torture yourself for it.  You’re terrified of returning to your team.”

“I’m terrified of being captured again.”

“Bullshit.” Ezor growled.  “If that was the case, the Waking Dreams would have started when we put you on missions.  Missions where you could have been captured.  Wanna try again without the bullshit?”

Lance took a deep breath. “The alliance is worth this.”  He said after a moment.  “And I will deal with my ‘Waking Dreams’.”

“Fine.” She crossed her arms and glared at him. “Keep your secrets.”

“I’m entitled to them.” Lance snapped back.  He wanted to bring up her own secrets, like how she came to join Lotor’s team, but didn’t.  That was too personal. 

“Not when they hurt the team.”  Ezor said as she stood up.  “Clearly you aren’t going to be dissuaded.  What’s done is done.”

“You can’t tell Lotor.”

“I won’t keep secrets from him.”

“Then don’t tell him _yet_.”  Lance tried to compromise, standing to try – and fail – to reach her height, to look at her levelly. “You know as well as I do that if he found out about this, he wouldn’t let me go.”

“All the more reason to tell him.”  Ezor sniffled, her arms crossed again as she looked away from Lance. 

“Ezor, please.” Lance pleaded as he took a step away from the door towards her. 

She was quiet for a long moment before she sighed again, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “Fine.  I won’t tell him… _yet_.”

“Thank you.” Lance said. 

“I just hope you don’t regret this.”  She said as slid into the space between Lance and the door and exited.   Lance pursed his lips and looked down, silently hoping that as well.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update from last chapter for those who don't follow my Tumblr. It's been a whole month and a half since I updated, and I'm sorry. I'm still not really motivated to write Voltron, but I figured I'd at least finish this chapter up for you guys.
> 
> Gizmo is doing great! Vet gave him a full bill of health! :D 
> 
> I've gotten a second job working at home, and that'll help some with bills. And I've got a vacation planned to see my folk's place in FL since I haven't seen it yet. I'll be going in July. :) Who knows, maybe going to the beach will re-motivate me? 
> 
> ~~~
> 
> Come talk to me on my [Tumblr](https://star-gazing-knight.tumblr.com/)!


	8. Chapter 8

Lance put off putting the armor on for as long as he could.  Just looking at it made him sick to his stomach. 

Once upon a time, it had been a security blanket.  It had been proof – to him – that he was a Paladin, that he was _valued_ and _needed_.  But then he was ~~potentially backstabbed, and~~ replaced… and after all that, after wearing Lotor’s colors… it just seemed _wrong_ to return to the armor.

But no matter his personal feelings one the matter, he had to put it back on.

After so long of wearing Lotor’s colors, the Paladin armor fit strangely.  Well, no, that wasn’t right.  It fit  as it always had, but it felt strange, nonetheless. The weight of the Paladin armor was not only mental and symbolic, but very physical as well.

Not to mention that putting on the armor was physical evidence of the choices he had made; of the possible mistakes he was making.  Putting on this armor returned him to Voltron and the cluster fuck of a mess that it was.  Putting this armor back on meant he was opening himself to being potentially stabbed in the back again.

Putting this armor back on was a mistake, but there was nothing he could do about that.  Not now, maybe not ever. 

He hoped that that wasn’t the case.  He hoped that he could settle his concerns as just baseless theories and be able to return to his place by Lotor’s side in relative peace and ease.  Yet for all his hoping – and Lance did like to think himself an optimistic – somehow, he didn’t think that was the case.

And so, it was with a churning gut of guilt, remorse, and regret that Lance stood in line with the other Paladins, clothed in their colors, as Allura and Lotor performed the intricate dance of politics involved in saying ‘goodbye’.

The speed in which they finished was probably borderline rude, but Lance couldn’t find it in him to really care.  While there was a part of him that wanted it to drag on, a stronger part of him was just ready to get this all over and done with.

The sooner this was over with, the sooner his window of opportunity to back out of this mistake would close.

And he needed it to close.  He needed the choice to leave Voltron to disappear because he knew that he _couldn’t_ leave.  At least, not until he got his confirmation – or denial – about Shiro’s loyalty.

The duality of emotions was that they sometimes conflicted, and Lance hated that.  Hated that he had had to go against everything he wanted because he would never be able to live in peace if it turned out he was _right_ about Shiro.

He had warned Hunk… why couldn’t that be enough?

His hands clenched, both at his thoughts and at Lotor walking down the line of Paladins.  He prayed that Lotor would just pass him by.  It would hurt like hell to be just ignored like that, but Lance _needed_ that.   He needed this to not drag on further, because if it did… if it did, he wouldn’t be able to leave.

Lotor was a private man.  With who he was and the life he lived; he had to be. His enemies were everywhere, always watching, always waiting.  Things like relationships could – and would – be used against him.  Yet despite that all, Lotor and he had been in a relationship.  Now that they were… Lance wasn’t even sure how to refer to them now.

He had never been sure how to refer to their relationship before, but now he was even more lost.  Exes seemed so… ominous and permanent. 

Given this history, he hoped and prayed that Lotor wouldn’t call attention to him.  That he would hurt Lance and ignore him, and just… move on.  It seemed, however, that Lotor was just as loathe to lose Lance as Lance was to leave.

Lotor’s steps slowed as Lance’s heart speed up until they came to a stop before him.  Lance studiously avoided looking at Lotor, focusing his gaze on the ground instead of the prince.  If he looked at Lotor now, he just knew his resolve would break.  It would break and sometime in the future, his former – now current – teammates would suffer because of it. 

He wouldn’t let anyone else be potentially blindsided by Shiro again. 

Lance felt his breath catch in his throat as Lotor said his name, “Lance,” like it was the last breath he would be able to take.  Like Lance was _worth_ something, and perhaps to Lotor, he was.  It wasn’t meant for anyone other than him, but he could tell Keith heard it by the way he stiffened and bristled. 

Thankfully that was the extent of Keith’s reaction. 

Lotor cleared his throat, and repeated Lance’s name, this more sounding more level.  “Lance, it was delightful to have you on my team.” He held out his hand as if asking for a handshake, and Lance could have cried at the fact that Lotor remembered Lance telling him about handshakes.

Of course, he had.  Lotor loved hearing about different worlds and different cultures and he definitely loved listening to Lance talk about Earth and his home. 

Had Lotor not been born a prince; had he been able to have the upraising he deserved…Lance liked to think that Lotor would have been some sort of Scholar.  Which was ridiculous because what was a person like Lance doing with a _scholar_ of all things?

But Lotor made him happy, and he liked to think he made Lotor happy.  No matter how short their time together had been.

Lance took his hand, and through the armor he could feel something pressed into his palm. Startled, Lance finally looked up at Lotor’s face.  His expression was hard, but there was a softness in his gaze if one knew where to look.

And Lance knew where to look.

“If you ever want to work with us again, there will always be a place here for you.”  Lotor added, the softness leaking into his tone. 

“He won’t.” Keith growled from beside Lance.   Lotor’s gaze cut from Lance to Keith and then back to Lance in quick succession in a clear indication of dismissal.  Keith bristled more, and probably would have said something had Shiro’s hand not fallen on Keith’s shoulder. 

When had he broken the line to stand beside Keith?  He had been up towards the front with Allura. 

“I’m sure Lance appreciates the gesture, Prince Lotor.” Shiro said, but his voice and tone were tense.   A warning to Lotor?  Or to Keith or Lance? 

Lance curled his hand as he dropped Lotor’s hand, quietly and subtly pocketing the small object Lotor had given him into the weird magic-like storage pocket of the armor. 

Lance smiled at Lotor, although he wasn’t sure if it reached his eyes.  “I do.”  He said, because he understood what this was and if he slipped up, then Lotor would _know_.  “But I belong with Voltron.”  He added a moment later. 

Lotor’s eyes dropped for a fraction of a second.  “I understand.”  He said in a voice that to anyone else would mean what he said.  Lance wasn’t anyone else.  He could hear the hurt and he couldn’t just leave things like that.

He couldn’t.

Vrekt, he wanted to just step out of line and pull off this paladin armor to rejoin Lotor’s team.  He wanted to stand beside Lotor again, to feel the comfort and security of the team at his back.  He wanted more moments with Lotor.

He couldn’t.

But if he wanted to in the future, he couldn’t leave things as they were now. 

“I’ll miss you.”  Lance informed him, letting the brutal honesty show in the roughness of his voice.  “You, and your team, were a pleasure to work with.”

The corners of Lotor’s lips uplifted a fraction, and Lance knew from the way his gaze quickly cut between him and the rest of the team that the prince was about to say something to make Lance proud, embarrassed, or both.

Knowing Lotor, he was willing to bet on either proud or both. 

“Having you, Lance, was the pleasure.”  He nodded and then turned on his heel to exit the boarding deck.   

Lance’s face flushed and Shiro made a strange sort of choking noise.  When Lance glanced at him, Shiro’s ears were pink at the tips and the man was firmly looking away.   The statement seemed to have gone over Keith’s head as he was eyeing the door that Lotor had exited through and Shiro.

He was always good at pretending, and like he had always been told ‘fake it till you make it’.  Maybe if he pretended he wasn’t flustered hard enough he wouldn’t be.

He took a deep breath and stepped past the rest of the team to head up to the Castle of Lions.

~

Naturally, Allura wanted everything to go back to how it was.  She just wanted to erase the past like it hadn’t happened, like Lance hadn’t been kidnapped by the Galra and rescued by Lotor.  Like Lance hadn’t been replaced.

Like Lance hadn’t been _potentially_ betrayed and backstabbed by Shiro.

Lance was pretty sure he wasn’t alone in his skepticism that this would be possible.  Too much had happened, too much had changed.

Lance couldn’t trust this team anymore.  Not entirely.

And this was a _problem_ because the Blue Paladin was about _Trust_.  Black was Loyalty, Red was Instinct, Green was Intelligence, Yellow was Stability, and Blue… Blue was _Trust_.  And trust was certainly something Lance didn’t carry in spades anymore.

He escaped to his ‘bedroom’ as soon as he could.  Unable and unwilling to bask in the presence of the team for longer than was necessary while he recovered from the pain of his choice. Because no matter what he pretended, it did actually hurt.

And it was _his choice_ , no matter how much it hurt.

His room was a mistake if only because it further cemented Allura’s thinly veiled idea to just pretend nothing had changed.  His room was exactly as he remembered it.  Still small, like a shoebox rather than a room.  Same lumpy mattress.  Same everything.

He sighed as he sunk down onto his bed and stared out at the bleary outlook of his room.  He missed his quarters with Lotor… he missed his room in Cuba.   He missed everything, but this.

He dropped his head into his hands, and inhaled deeply.  “This is fine.” He whispered to himself.  “This is fine, said the dog in a burning room.”

A knock on the door startled him, and he jumped, eyes wide as he looked at it.  It slid open just a few seconds later before he could say or do anything. 

At least on Lotor’s ship, they would have waited a few seconds for his response.

Boundaries were respected there.  No one would just _enter_ his room, especially in the beginning.  Not unless they felt there was a real reason for them to enter.

Shiro smiled sheepishly at him from the doorway.  “Hey.”  He greeted as he stepped inside without Lance’s permission.

Why was Shiro here?  Shiro didn’t really talk to him, not unless it was to scold him or a team discussion or something.  Everyone knew he favored Pidge, Keith, and Allura to anyone else and especially over Lance.

It took all of Lance’s willpower not to narrow his eyes.  Instead he leaned back so he was resting his weight on his hands as he smiled at Shiro.  All those acting classes he took before the Garrison had to account for something, right?

“Hey,” He parroted.

Shiro nodded, more to himself than to Lance, and shifted.  “It’s, uh, good to have you back.”

Lance bit back the response that he had only been back for less than a day, and that it was technically Shiro’s fault that Lance had been gone to begin with.

“It’s good to be back.”  Lance ~~lied~~ replied.  “Wasn’t sure I would be for a while there.” 

That bit, at least, was honest.  He wasn’t sure that he would be back.  He wasn’t sure that if given the choice he would come back.  But he _had_.  Because he couldn’t, in good conscience, allow Shiro to get away with what happened.

“I understand.”  Shiro nodded and crossed his arms in his signature pose.  “But what’s important is that you’re here.  It was good that you were … well taken care of.”  There was a bit of hesitation that told Lance that Shiro hadn’t said what he was exactly thinking.

He pursed his lips and shifted so he was leaning forwards with his arms on his thighs.  “Yeah.” He replied. 

“I don’t mean to pry, but were you and…”  Shiro trailed off, and made a gesture with his human hand as if to say, ‘you know’.

“Were I and…”  Lance shook his head slowly, trailing off purposely in a way to say that he didn’t understand where Shiro was coming from. 

Even though he understood _exactly_ where Shiro was coming from.  Lance just didn’t see why it was any of his business what the relationship between him and Lotor had been.  

Shiro cleared his throat and shifted uneasily before it was like there was _change_ in him.  He stood fractionally straighter, his posture shifting to something less _Shiro_.  “Were you and Lotor close?”  He asked, the embarrassment from earlier vanishing like it never existed.

There was something in his gaze that Lance wasn’t entirely sure that he liked.  Actually, Lance was entirely sure that he _didn’t_ like it.  His gut twisted, the feeling of there being something wrong exploding within him.

 _This_ was why he returned to Voltron.  Not out of an obligation to the team or the universe.  Not because he was a Paladin.  But because he was only one to have reasonable suspicions on Shiro.  Nobody else would think to look at Shiro as a traitor until it was too late.

It had almost been too late for Lance. 

“He was the team leader.”  Lance answered carefully, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible without being dismissive or sounding like he was hiding anything.

“Was that all he was to you?” Shiro pressed. 

“Does it matter if he was or wasn’t?”  Lance shot back, perhaps too defensively.  “We were friends.  Maybe there could have been something more if I stayed, but I _didn’t_.”

It was close enough to the truth but distant enough to hopefully throw Shiro off, and it seemed to work.  Shiro relaxed, but the way that he did reminded Lance of a marionette with lax – but not cut – strings. _Interesting_.

“I see.”  Shiro said.  “Well, regardless, it’s good to have you back.”

Lance smiled sharply at him, a completely friendly – to humans – smile full of teeth.  “Like I said, it’s good to be back.”

Shiro nodded and after a few seconds of silence, cleared his throat.  “You left quickly… and Allura wanted me to suggest you try to reconnect with the Blue Lion.”

“I’ll get right on that.” Lance didn’t make any movements and Shiro sighed and shook his head before heading to the door. 

“Don’t take too long.”  He advised before leaving. 

Lance wondered what would happen if he did. If he waited for a week or even a month to seek out Blue.  He wondered if she would even accept him anymore.  Their connection had snapped, she had taken on Allura in his stead, and he could hardly consider himself the Blue Paladin anymore.

And if she did reject him?  What would he do then?  Would Allura continue to try to force him and Blue together?  Or would she drop him back off with Lotor since he would be useless to her and her goal of ‘saving the universe no matter the cost’?

He shook his head.  To be honest, the wait would probably kill him more than it would kill anyone else.  What else was there to really do in the castle beyond tend to the Lions and beat his head on the walls out of boredom?

He needed to at least make an _attempt_ with Blue.

~

The Blue Lion was as astoundingly beautiful as always.

There was something about her that always seemed to leave Lance breathless, no matter how often he saw – or piloted – her.  She was beauty and power and intelligence and _so much more_ , that some days it hurt for Lance to just try to comprehend.

The Lions were alive, although not in the way that Lance was alive, but in a different way.  A way beyond what Science could explain.  She was no less beautiful to Lance.  If anything the distance had made her splendor greater.  

Her barrier was down, allowing Lance to walk up to her and rest his hand against her paw in greeting.  “Hey, beautiful.” He purred to her.

There was this _tug_ on him.  It wasn’t a physical sensation, but it wasn’t entirely a mental or emotion sensation either.   With a deliberate slowness, the Blue Lion lowered her head to allow him entry.  With every step, he could feel his bond with her reconnecting.

It felt like the first time he stepped in her cockpit.  It felt like, to some degree, coming home.  Like he had been holding his breath from the moment the connection snapped and now he was finally able to breath.

No.  No, that wasn’t right.

Returning to Blue was like a fish being returned to the water.  He could breath, he could move, he could _live_. 

He trailed his fingers along her inner walls, his eyes closed as he navigated to the cockpit – and the pilot chair – with no difficulty.   _This_ was something ingrained into him, something that he wasn’t sure could be taken from him entirely.

The connection between him and Blue could snap, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t _inside_ him anymore, even if he felt he couldn’t fully uphold the mantle of the Blue Paladin anymore.  Too many conflictions in his heart and mind.

He met with Blue, open and honest and true to himself.  He met with her and opened himself because if there was anyone on this ship he could _trust_ – besides Hunk – it was Blue.  She met him as equally open, washing waves of hesitation and doubt upon him like he was on a beach in Cuba standing in the surf.

When all was said and done, she mourned for them.  She mourned for him, for herself, for the relationship they had and the relationship they _could_ have had.  She knew their time together was limited.  In the end, he would leave regardless of the outcome. 

Teams needed trust and communication, and while one couldn’t always trust in their team, they _needed_ to trust in their team leader.

And regardless of Shiro’s innocence or not, Lance knew he couldn’t trust Shiro again.  Not fully, not like he _needed_ to if he wanted to stay on the team.

And who knew, perhaps Lance was wrong.  Perhaps Lance would find Shiro innocent and would stay with Voltron.  But as things stood currently, that didn’t seem likely.

And if he never found out?  Well, he would.  “I didn’t have a reason to notice or care before.” He informed her quietly.  “Now I do, and whatever he’s hiding, I’ll figure it out.”

Because there was something Shiro was hiding.  There was no doubt in Lance’s mind about that.  Whether or not that thing was harmless, however, was very much in question.

Allura was waiting for him outside of Blue in the hangar.  She clasped her hands in front of her chest as she _beamed_ at him, so brightly and beautifully that he could almost pretend he still liked her.

And he did.  She was beauty and grace and punch a person in the face, but after Lotor… just the thought of seeing anyone else like he had seen Lotor made him feel ill.  He didn’t want a rebound, and besides, Allura deserved better.

She deserved him letting her – or more specifically, his childish infatuation with her – go.  He could still admire her beauty and strength, but that was that.  There would be nothing further beyond that.

“Splendid!” She cheered, still beaming a smile bright enough to rival a sun.  “I knew you and the Blue Lion would succeed in reconnecting with no trouble.”

“Trouble?” Lance repeated.  The Lance from before would have just waggled his eyebrows and made flirty comment.  Now Lance just spun on his heel to look back up at Blue.  “For me an’ Blue, here?  Nah, we’re cool, aren’t we, beautiful?”

Blue’s eyes blazed in response and he grinned as he looked over his shoulder back at Allura. “See?  No trouble here.”

Her smile had dimmed at some point and her eyebrows were beginning to crinkle together, but she noticed him watching she smoothed back out her expression.  “Good.  The universe needs Voltron.  It’s imperative that you regain any ground that may have been lost by your absence.”

His absence.  Like he was kid skipping school and not a teammate who had been potentially backstabbed and left to be possible experimented upon and tortured.  His grin grew plastic. 

“Right.  I’ll get right on that.” He wondered if his promises sounded as hollow as they tasted.

~

The team did not, in fact, succeed in forming Voltron.   Which was in no way, shape, or form Lance’s fault.

Okay, so it was entirely Lance’s fault.

While in Voltron, they were all in each other’s mind spaces, and while Lance didn’t mind it before… there were places and things he didn’t want just anyone to be able to reach in and see.  Like, yes, the mind meld was a two-way street, but the chance to see in Shiro’s mind was not worth the risk of Shiro seeing in his.

Wasn’t worth the risk of anyone seeing in his. 

There were theories and thoughts he couldn’t allow Shiro to discover.  There were memories and scenes that Lance didn’t want to share.

Allura was understandably upset, but seemed optimistic that things would return to how they were in no time.  And it seemed she had dedicated most of their free time to returning to the past as much as she could.

If she had her way, they would have done a complete return to when they were first learning Voltron.

The entire team had put an end to that idea before it could even happen.  No one was keen to return to that grueling training regiment, even if it had – in some way – worked.

If Voltron absolutely needed to be formed, then he would give in.  But until then, his head and mind was _his_. 

“You could at least agree to form Voltron just to get Allura off our backs.” Hunk muttered as he knocked on the door to Pidge’s room.   Lance hummed and leaned against the wall beside the door. 

“Dunno what you’re talking about, buddy.”

“You’re holding back, Lance.  We can all tell.” Hunk crossed his arms and shot Lance his best ‘mothering’ look.  “Look, I get you have your reasons… reasons we’re here to discuss, but—” Hunk wasn’t able to continue his sentence as the door slid open and Pidge poked her head out to blink at first Hunk and then Lance.

The corners of her lips twitched downwards as she looked at Lance, and he mentally noted that whatever news she had called them here for was probably not in his favor.

She stepped back and wordlessly invited them into the cave of junk known as her room.

Of all the Paladins, Pidge seemed to have taken to the whole idea of ‘the castleship is home now’ the hardest.  Lance frowned as he tapped at the head of ‘garbage’ Lance.  “Talk to this thing much when you missed me?”

“You assume I missed you.” She rebuked, wrinkling her nose.  He took that as a confession and grinned accordingly. 

“Enough to make a version of me out of garbage.”

“What did you need?” Hunk cut in, always diplomatic and eager to diffuse arguments before they could form.

Pidge checked that the door was locked before crossing her arms.  “The chip is blank.”  She announced.

Lance audibly snorted, startling Hunk – if his mini jump and wide eyes were anything to go by – and surprising Pidge.   Or perhaps Hunk’s response was because Lance hadn’t been told about Pidge being involved in the chip now.   “Tell me something I _don’t_ know.”  He arched an eyebrow high as he gave her his best ‘unimpressed’ face.  “First thing I did was check it after being rescued.”

“Lotor might have swapped it.”

“He couldn’t have.”  Lance bristled over Pidge’s accusation. “Our storage areas are keyed to us specifically.  He couldn’t have gotten in.” 

“That doesn’t make sense.  There was never anything on it.  Are you sure you downloaded the data?”

Well, _that_ Lance hadn’t known.  But he supposed that was why it was given to the expert(s).  And that tidbit of information was hella suspicious and more proof that things weren’t right.

“I’m sure.” He ground out before continuing with, “Then why was it guarded heavily enough to capture me?  Why was I sent on a solo mission for it, and told that there would be minimal resistance?”

“You volunteered.” Pidge argued.  Lance let out a sharp bark of laughter and shook his head. 

“ _Volunteered_?” He repeated.  “Shiro _voluntold_ me.  Have you been so caught up in your _Science™_ that you haven’t noticed anything odd about him?  Anything that’s made you _question_ anything about him?”

He knew he had her when she hesitated, whatever retort she had dying in her mouth as his questions jarred something in her.  After a minute she shook her head.  “No, Keith would have noticed, he—”

“He’s been spending more time with the Blade.” Lance cut her off.  It had been nearly a week since he rejoined Voltron, but it felt like longer.  It honestly felt like he had never left.  Which was presumably Allura’s goal. 

But he had left.  He had the mental scars and the gift from Lotor – which he still didn’t understand or recognize – and the memories and…  He had left.  Things were different.

“I think he was hoping they could find out what happened to Lance.”  Hunk said.  “Shiro has been _off_ , even more so since Lance,”  He paused for a microsecond as his gaze cut from Pidge to Lance and then back to Pidge, “was captured.”

“Betrayed.” Lance corrected bitterly.

“You have no proof!” Pidge argued. 

“Neither do you!”  Lance argued, throwing up his hands.  “Shiro’s acting weird, and you know it.  He’s hiding something, and that chip is tied to it.”

“Fine. Believe what you want, but I don’t think Shiro would betray us.”  She continued to argue.  Lance growled. 

“Fine.” He agreed. “How about you find proof that he _didn’t_.  I’ll take either.”

“If you allowed us to form Voltron…” Hunk slyly suggested, and Lance whirled around on him.  He knew the others could tell he was purposely holding back – Hunk had already said as much – but Lance had valid, logical, and personal reasons to keep the others away from his mind.

What if Shiro could somehow control or persuade their thoughts through the mind meld?  It wouldn’t be the first time a Black Paladin had betrayed Voltron and managed to hide their true intentions despite the mind meld.

“I don’t need you guys digging around my headhole!  Especially since—”

“You were fucking Lotor?”  Pidge interrupted casually, like it was just common knowledge and not something _personal_ to Lance.  She arched an eyebrow, giving him a mirror of the unimpressed look he had shot at her earlier.    

Lance’s argument broke apart into sputters as his entire train of thought derailed.

“Pidge!” Hunk gasped, sounding suitably offended on Lance’s behalf. 

“What?”  She rested her hand on her hip and turned that gaze to Hunk.  “It’s pretty obvious there was _something_ between them.”  She scoffed and rolled her eyes.  “ _’Having you, Lance, was the pleasure.’_ ” She quoted before sticking her tongue out in the barf expression.  “Seriously?” She pointedly looked at Lance. 

“Oh.  I get it.”   Lance crossed his arms.  “You think that because Lotor and were close—”

“Fucking.”

“—that he’s the reason I’m paranoid about Shiro and that he’s tricking me into breaking apart the team.”

“The fact you brought it up means it’s crossed your mind.”  Hunk pointed out.  Who’s side was he on anyways?  One moment he was with Lance, and then he was with Pidge. 

Lance sighed, the type of sigh one gave when they were _done™_ and seconds away from doing something they would probable regret.  He lowered his head and pinched the bridge of his nose in a way very much like how he had often seen Shiro do whenever dealing with the ~~admittedly stupid~~ ideas the team sometimes came up with.

“Look.” He brought his hand down and clapped his other one against it as he pointed his hands at her.  “If you’re so sure that Shiro’s innocent, find me some proof; AND—” He looked to Hunk pointedly, “I’m not gonna use the mind meld as evidence because Zarkon was able to somehow get past that.”

Neither Pidge nor Hunk seemed to have much of an argument against that.  Then again, sometimes it was hard to fight against the truth.  Pidge frowned and after a moment of silence sighed, “Fine.  But if he’s innocent…”

“Let’s burn that bridge when we get to it.”  Lance replied, and hoped that for at least Pidge and Hunk’s sakes that he was wrong.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, but I'm back! As some of you know, I recently took a vacation. It was horrible, thanks for asking; but the first days while I was at the beach were pretty awesome. Getting away from my every day life did actually help to motivate me, so I guess there's two 'Wins' for my vacay. Anyway, I should be back up to posting once a week. 
> 
> As some of you might have noticed, I've added an 'end' chapter amount: 12. So long as Ghost okays the chapters she's got left to read... that's it. This story will at it's close. I'm really excited to share the rest of this fic with you guys! :D
> 
> OH! If you guys do see any typos or mistakes, please let me know! Ghost's been working on commissions and a Zine, so she was hard pressed to find time to beta. She did read through it and caught a lot of stuff (I swear, I'm gonna make it so my computer autocorrects Lootr to Lotor) but I know some stuff slips through the cracks; even if after I go back through a couple of times.


	9. Chapter 9

Lance stared down at the green goo that was their meal – morning, day, and night – unless Hunk found ingredients to cook and desperately missed the coffee and foods that Lotor provided.  He missed the coffee, the fruit, the little breakfast cakes and bars.

He missed more than that, if he was honest.

He missed waking up, feeling safe and secure.  He missed his runs with Ezor, his lessons with Zethrid and his training with Acxa.  He missed his late-night games of Kishet with Narti.   He practiced the sign language in the privacy of his bedroom, but that was about the only normalcy that he could get.

Despite being ‘great diplomatic explorers’ the only language available to be learned was Altean – and Lance was _never_ going to touch the ships ‘leaning’ system again.  There was no one on board who could, or would, practice with him the various Galra dialects and scripts or it’s sign language.

There was the training room, but if it wasn’t in use by Keith, then it was being used by Shiro.  So that knocked out running and shooting practice.  He tried to tell himself that it was for the better; he didn’t want the rest of his team finding out how much better he was at combat now.  There was no point in showing cards that didn’t need to be shared.   

Not yet, anyways.

There wasn’t any Kishet boards in the castle either – and Lance would know, he spent hours looking after a particularly bad nightmare. 

And like, the Voltron team was great and all… but they weren’t Lotor’s team.  Which was to be expected.  The teams were made up of different people with different personalities, backgrounds, and connections.  

He moved the goo around with his spoon, grimacing down at it.  His stomach twisted, as if warning him that it would do something unpleasant if he dared to take another bite.

Across the table, Hunk and Pidge were engrossed in their technobabble.  Keith was absent – a  rare Blade of Marmora mission that had him pulled away for longer than a day.   Shiro was talking with Allura and Coran, although Lance noticed that he kept looking over.

Was it because he suspected something was up?  Or was it out of worry about Lance since Lance knew the _truth_ about what happened; that Lance hadn’t volunteered like Shiro had claimed.

He kept waiting for the shoe to drop on that, and yet… it seemed as if it never would.

His gaze dropped from Shiro as he glanced back at Lance.  He continued to stir the green goo, his stomach twisting with every twirl of the spoon.

“Lance,”  Shiro’s voice, so much closer than expected and calling his name, startled Lance into dropping his spoon.  The metal rattled against the edge of the bowl before spilling onto the table, splattering a small amount of green goo against the table.  He looked up at Shiro – since when was he standing next to him – and offered an embarrassed smile. 

“You doing alright?”  Shiro continued, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked down at Lance.   His gaze flickered once in Pidge and Hunk’s direction, and Lance’s heart suddenly felt like it was going to explode out of his chest.

The rest of the table had fallen silent at the clatter of Lance’s spoon, and he could feel their eyes on him and Shiro.   So why had Shiro glanced in their direction? 

Some part of his brain was setting off alarm bells, but no.  No, Shiro couldn’t suspect much. 

Lance had been close to Hunk and Pidge previously, so his continued proximity to them wouldn’t be amiss.  And he had been somewhat of hero-worshipping Shiro before the whole knife in the back thing.  So him looking at Shiro shouldn’t have given anything away.

The only suspect thing had been going along with Shiro’s lie about how Lance got captured. 

The only people who knew anything about his suspicions were himself, Pidge, and Hunk.  It was a general consensus between them to not mention anything of their suspicions to anyone else. It wasn’t that Lance – or Pidge and Hunk – had anything against the others, but, well…

Allura was… Allura.  Which meant that she was a bit… headstrong, and not always in a good way.  Stubbornness and determination weren’t _bad_ traits, but too much of any thing could turn out to be not so good.  And when combined with her somewhat racist philosophy of ‘guilty until proven innocent, and even then they’re still guilty’ when it came to anything Empire related…

Yeah.  They could all imagine how Allura would react to the potential threat of Shiro being a traitor, and _no one_ wanted to deal with that. 

Like Allura, Keith was also stubborn and determined, but in a _different_ way.  No less good – or bad – just, _different_.  He was a ‘swing sword first, ask questions later’ type of person.  He was action and movement and aggression and… not what was needed for this type of situation.

Keith was more likely to go straight to Shiro and demand answers.  Which, admittedly, wasn’t entirely a bad idea if it wasn’t for the fact that it would give away the fact they were suspicious in the first place and allow Shiro a chance to cover his trail – if there was one. 

Last, but not least, there was Coran.

Coran, Coran – the gorgeous man. 

Also the biggest of the wildcards between the three of them.  One moment prying a secret out of him was like trying to get Ezor to talk about her past.  The next, he was spilling secrets like they were beads at Mardi Gras.  There was no telling what way the man would swing with something like this.

And telling Shiro was completely out of the question for reasons already covered.

He cleared his throat and nodded, hoping beyond belief that his smile didn’t look as plastic as it felt. “Everything’s good, man.  What’s up?”

“Just checking on you.”  Shiro replied.  He reached out to rest his hand on Lance’s shoulder, and maybe Lance was imagining the way he squeezed to be just a bit _too_ tight.  “Make sure you eat up.  Wouldn’t do for our sharpshooter to get sick.”  He added before patting Lance’s shoulder and walking away.

Maybe Shiro didn’t meant for his words to sound as ominous as they did, but that didn’t change how Lance perceived them.  His stomach plummeted as he glanced at the small mess in front of him.  Well, there went his already non-existent appetite. 

“Lance?” Allura called his name, and he looked up at her to offer _another_ plastic smile. 

“You know, I’m not all that hungry after all.”  He said as he dropped his spoon back into his bowl and wiped up the spilled goo with his napkin.  “Think I’ll go chill with Blue.”

Allura’s gaze was searching and speculative as she scanned over him before she nodded.  “That may be for the best.  You still have yet to form Voltron.”

And they wouldn’t unless strictly necessary, not that Lance could tell her that.  “He just needs time to readjust.” Hunk added while Pidge shot him a look that clearly said ‘really?!’  Lance ignored her.

“I can imagine.”  Allura replied, the curl in her lips audible in her tone.  “After spending so much time with _Prince Lotor’s team.”_

Lance felt his eyelid twitch and inhaled sharply, but quietly.  The hand not holding his bowl curled into a fist, his nails biting into the soft meat of his palm.  “Something wrong with Lotor?” He asked despite knowing full well that Allura and Lotor got along like water and oil.

Allura wrinkled her nose like she smelled something foul.  “If you mean besides being the son of Zarkon, then no, nothing at all.”

He shouldn’t say anything.  He shouldn’t.  He should just grit his teeth, hold his tongue, and walk away.  Lotor was more than his father, and all he ever wanted – besides what was best for the Empire – was to be treated as his own man by his own actions and words.  Or at least, that was as much as Lance could tell.

“His mother was Altean.”  The words escaped from Lance’s lips before he could stop them.  It wasn’t like he was sharing some secret about Lotor.  Just about anyone in the Empire who knew Lotor knew his mother wasn’t Galra but Altean.  Where his mother was, however, was a mystery. 

Lotor believed her to be dead, and Lance hadn’t wanted to pry past that.

Still, he hadn’t meant to just blurt out something about Lotor like that in a fit of anger, even if it was something that was somewhat public knowledge.

“Excuse me?” Allura’s mouth dropped open and she blinked a few times in rapid succession.  At her side, Coran shifted uncomfortably.

“Lotor’s mother.”  Lance repeated.  “She was Altean.”

“Honerva was a good friend of Alfor.” Coran muttered to himself.  Lance took a mental note of the name to pass along to Lotor next he saw him.

…If he saw Lotor again.

“His mother was Altean?” Allura shook her head as she repeated the words.  “No…” She whispered.

Oh. Come. On.  Lance couldn’t believe her sometimes. 

“He’s more than his father’s son, you know, unless you think Zarkon cancels out anything from her?”

“I…”  Allura averted her gaze down to her own bowl of goo, and Lance felt like she was sufficiently called out.  He picked up his bowl and started to turn away.  “No matter his mother, that doesn’t change his Galra heritage nor Zarkon’s influence.”

Oh.  For fuck’s sake.

It was like watching her shun Keith all over again.  Like watching her bad mouth the Blade of Marmora even after they proved themselves time and time again.  He hadn’t wanted to believe that racism existed up in space, and yet here it was.  It became more and more blatant the more time he spent up here.

Once more his spoon hit the table in a clatter, although this time it came from Lance slamming his bowl back down on the table. 

“I can’t believe you.” She flinched at Lance’s words, or perhaps it was just wishful thinking on Lance’s part and his eyes seeing what he wanted to see. “I thought the Alteans were this diplomatic peaceful race, so how are you _this_ racist? The Galra aren’t inherently evil just because Zarkon is.  Keith’s not evil.  The Blade of Marmora isn’t evil.  And. Neither. Is. Lotor.”

“Don’t speak to the princess like that.” Coran barked out, finally actually partaking in the conversation and standing. 

Lance crossed his arms and glared, first at Coran and then at Allura. “#NotMyPrincess.” He replied before spinning on his heel and marching out of the room.  He stopped once the doors closed behind him, and only then did he attempt to uncurl his fists. 

More than anything, he wished he was back with Lotor’s team with a decent rifle in his hands and some targets to take care of.  Or that he was in Lotor’s bath, surrounded by all his lovely soaps and oils.  He wished he could work out his frustrations constructively with Ezor or Acxa, or distract himself with some kishet or language lessons.

None of that was available here.

He missed Lotor’s team, and no matter how he cut it, Voltron paled in comparison to them.

~

“I heard you had quite the conversation with Allura when I left.”

Lance pretended that Shiro hadn’t spoken, as he worked to polish Blue’s claws.  It was somewhat useless work considering the Lions repaired themselves and didn’t care much about polishing and shine and all that, but… it was something for him to do.

And Blue was the least likely to tip him back over the edge.

“Want to talk about it?” Shiro continued, persistent as a swarm of gnats on the beach.  Lance was willing to bet that swatting him away like said swarm of gnats would be just as effective too – which was to say, it wouldn’t be.

Lance paused in his polishing to take a deep breath and close his eyes. “No.” 

“I understand where you’re coming from Lance.  It’s natural for you to have an attachment to them, but you can’t let that get in the way of the team.”   Shiro was apparently not listening to him.  And maybe it was Lance’s anger mixing up Shiro’s implications, but Lance thought he might just be implying something like Stockholm syndrome and just…

No.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while now.”  Shiro continued.  A chill ran down Lance’s spine, and in the reflection of the claws he was polishing, he watched Shiro. 

“About what happened?” Lance asked. 

“Mmm.”  Shiro hummed.  He wasn’t watching Lance, but looking down at his arm.  Another chill ran down Lance’s back.   “In a way.”  He finally replied, dropping his arm and looking at Lance.   Surely Shiro wouldn’t be stupid enough to try something in a room with the _Blue Lion_.

“Like I said, I understand about attachments.”

“Lotor wasn’t a captor.”

“Of course.  I never said he was.”  Shiro’s tone sounded pleasant, but his expression was anything but.  “But the feeling of attachment is natural.  Leaving the team must have been difficult.  I should have spoken to you when I noticed the attachment was keeping us from forming Voltron, but I just hoped that it would resolve itself.  That some team bonding would put things right.”

Shiro sighed, and when Lance didn’t respond, continued with,  “I can’t help but to feel that you’re being purposefully distant from the team.”   It wasn’t said, but Lance could hear what wasn’t being said.  He stood up and wiped his hands on his pants before turning to give Shiro a dazzling barbie smile.

“You’re right.”  He nodded, and took some amusement in how thrown off Shiro was by his response.  “I was… am attached still to Lotor’s team; and it has caused me to be distant.”

“Glad to hear you admit it, Lance.”  Shiro clasped Lance on the shoulder.  His lips were smiling, but his eyes were hard in a way that had Lance’s head blaring even more alarms than before.  “Why don’t we try some good old-fashioned team bonding tomorrow?” Shiro suggested with a hard tone that when coupled with his grip left little room for argument.

“Ju…just the two of us?”

“If that’s not a problem.”  Shiro shrugged in a way that _looked_ casual.  “Keith’s still on his mission, and Pidge and Hunk have been busy on their little project.  I thought it would give _us_ a chance to clear the air.”

“Right.”   Lance’s barbie smile grew more and more plastic and tight at the conversation continued.  The chills had yet to stop running up and down his back, and a general aura of unease seemed to cloak him like a fog over a pond.

Shiro patted his shoulder twice before stepping away.  “Good.”  He smiled, and this time it did reach his eyes in a way that further unsettled Lance.  “See you tomorrow.”

~

Shiro collected Lance early in the morning.  Early enough that Lance wasn’t entirely sure anyone else was up. 

Scratch that, he was ninety percent certain that no one else was up. 

“This mission was cleared by Allura, right?” Lance asked before mentally kicking himself in the butt.  He didn’t want to let Shiro in on his suspicions.

Shiro glanced at him with something akin to amusement.  “Of course.”  He replied.  “We’ll be taking one of the pods since it’s a recon mission.”

…A recon mission, alone with Shiro.  Stars, this was like straight out of one of Lance’s nightmares.  His hands were shaking as he balled them into a fist, and he blinked furiously as he tried to convince himself that he was having issues breathing because he was panicking, not because of _gas_. 

“Where to?” Lance’s voice was a bit high pitched, but for all his internal panicking, he thought it sounded pretty level.

“An asteroid belt, so there shouldn’t be any trouble.”

A recon mission, alone with Shiro, to an asteroid belt.  Lance was willing to bet money that something didn’t seem right with this.  “Any particular reason why?”

“Allura and I thought it might be a bonding experience.  Nothing has shown up on the scanners, so it’ll just give us a chance to talk and connect.” 

…right, and Lance was the King of Cuba. 

Something about this didn’t feel right but he didn’t have any proof or reason to decline or call Shiro out.  And Shiro knew that.

He swallowed thickly and fought the impulse to check his storage compartment for the device Lotor had given him.  He still wasn’t sure what it was, but he was certain that Lotor wouldn’t have given it to him for no purpose.

Lotor’s gifts tended to be functional and, most importantly, _useful._  

“Kay.”  Lance commented.  He hummed and tilted his head to the side, hoping that he was successfully pulling off the act of being at ease.  “If it’s recon, why not send in Pidge?  I mean, I get she and Hunk had a project but…”

“It’s not like we’re doing anything.”  Shiro replied.  “No need to pull her away and besides, we shouldn’t run into any trouble.”

He kept repeating that like he thought if he said it enough times Lance would believe him.  He _didn’t_.  Also, those were famous last words.   

It wasn’t like this was his first mission with Shiro since getting back… but it was his first _solo_ mission with Shiro. 

Anything could happen.  And if it did, well, he had warned Pidge and Hunk.  They were smart, surely they would put two and two together to get four.  Even if they were blinded by their loyalty to Shiro to see it now.

He took a deep breath as he entered the pod, trying to calm his racing nerves.  Everything would be fine. Surely Shiro wouldn’t be stupid enough to make a move on Lance on their first solo outing, right?

~

He wished he could say that his nerves were put at ease as they traveled through the belt.  He wished he could say that Shiro was innocent and guiltless and there was nothing wrong.  But that sense of unease was as steady and prevalent as ever; looming over him like a funeral shroud.

Something was wrong, and that became abundantly clear as they spotted what looked to be an abandoned Galra base after about an hour and a half of travel.  Shiro’s eyebrows furrowed as he spotted the decrepit ship floating through the asteroids.

“Huh, that didn’t show in the scans.”

Lance’s mind gleefully provided a sarcastic response that he fought not to say.   “Right, we should call it in to the ship,” He said instead, reaching for the communication console. 

Shiro was silent as Lance tried – and failed – to get a secure connection to the castle ship.  Lance glanced at the window at all the asteroids with a sinking heart.  No communication.  Not this far out, not in an asteroid field. 

“It’s pretty abandoned.  It won’t hurt to check it out before we head back.” Shiro said with a sharp smile that was probably _supposed_ to be friendly.   

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Shiro.”

“We could lose it if we head back now.”  He argued as he piloted the craft down to the floating base.

Lance was tempted not to leave the pod, but Shiro just kind of stared at him until he did.  He had a feeling that he wasn’t going to react until Lance did.  They both knew what was going on here, and they both knew the other knew.

The base was, surprisingly, actually abandoned, and looked like it had been for some time if the destruction was anything to go by.  It was a point in Shiro’s favor to be sure.  Too bad his obviously out of place behavior was a giant red flag.

“I don’t think we’ll find anything of use here.”  Lance commented as he walked through the destroyed decrepit hallways.  He was a little ahead of Shiro, a position that was setting his teeth on edge, but any attempts to walk along side or behind Shiro had been thwarted.  “We should head back now.”

“So soon?” Shiro asked.  The tone of his voice set Lance on edge – heck, the entire situation set Lance on edge.   He spun around to face Shiro and crossed his arms, painfully aware of his ack of weapon.  Thankfully, he still had whatever Lotor had given him.

“We’re heading back.”

“I don’t think so.” Shiro replied.

The alarms in Lance’s head were going off at full throttle now.  His hand drifted down to his storage compartment and he tried to summon the device Lotor had given him. 

Nothing happened.

“Looking for this?” Shiro asked, holding up the small device.  He grinned, a very un-Shiro-like grin and laughed.  Lance lost the ability to breath.  That device had been his last and only hope.  How had… when had…?

He had checked before going on the mission that it was in his storage compartment!  How had Shiro gotten it!?

“Funny thing about being the Black Paladin.”  Shiro said. “I can access your storage units.  A failsafe in case a Paladin falls and the Bayard or whatever else needed to be retrieved.”   He didn’t even glance at the device as he crushed it between his thumb and forefinger like it was nothing more than a bug.  His grin turned almost feral or rabid.

“You’ve been a pain in my side since that failed mission, but you’re smart, Lance.  I’m going to give you a bit of a head start.  You won’t get far, but try to make it interesting for me.”   And of course, that was the only warning Lance had before his hand lit up and he took a swing at Lance.

Lance, understandably screeched.  If it wasn’t for all the obstacle coursed he had run with Acxa, probably would have been seriously injured if not killed.  “What the fuck!?”  He screamed as he scrambled away from Shiro. 

“Tick tock.” Shiro taunted him before lunging again.  Lance shrieked again and ducked under the attack, rolling to the side as best he could in space. 

He didn’t need to be good at math to know that the odds of him surviving this encounter were slim to none, but that didn’t mean he was going to go down without a fight.  His gaze was frantic as he looked around before spotting a ventilation shaft not far from them.

If he could get up there, then maybe he could work his way back to the pod. 

He doubted it worked as Shiro was the last one in it, but… it was still a chance.

“What happened to a head start?” Lance cried out as he dodged another attack.  He ran down the hall towards the vent, and at the very last moment engaged the thrusters on his suit to reach the vent and climb up into it.

Behind him he could hear Shiro growl in frustration.

“You’re not going to escape, Lance!” Shiro called out.  “There’s no where for you to go.”

That maybe so, but he was going to draw out this ‘game’ for as long as it took for someone to notice.  Hunk and Pidge knew he was suspicious of Shiro.  Surely they would get suspicious too if it took him a while to come back. 

Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys see any typos or mistakes, please let me know! Ghost works really hard to make sure she catches them all (like Pokemon), but they do sometimes slip through. 
> 
> Come Talk to me on my [Tumblr](https://star-gazing-knight.tumblr.com/)!


	10. Chapter 10

The ventilation system was both Lance’s worst nightmare and – at the time – salvation.   Shiro couldn’t get to him in the vents.  At least, not easily.  Unfortunately, that didn’t change the fact that Lance was cramming himself into too small areas of dark confinement. 

He closed his eyes and breathed out slowly and steadily through his mouth.  He had his helmet on and so long as he had that, he was safe.

Well, not safe from Shiro, but then again Lance didn’t think _anything_ was really safe from Shiro.  Not when he was on a murderous rampage. 

And, for the record, playing Hide ‘n’ Go Seek with a murderous Shiro on an abandoned Galra base in the middle of an asteroid belt with no weapons or way to signal for help was pretty high up on Lance’s list of things he did **not** want to experience.

It was pretty close to topping the number one thing on that list, which was to be experimented by Haggar; but not quite.  Not yet anyways.

He may change his mind on which was worse after he survived this mess.  _If_ he survived.

Because if he was honest with himself, and he usually was, then the odds of his survival weren’t stacked in his favor.  This wasn’t an opinion so much as a fact. 

Shiro was deadly for just about any enemy that faced him – with the exception of perhaps Sendak, although Lance wasn’t sure if that counted considering Lance had been used as a hostage to force Shiro to stand down – so when it came to one-on-one battle with the man, Lance knew he was screwed.

No amount of confidence or believing was going to make Lance suddenly be able to take _Shiro_ on in a fair battle.

Not that this was a fair battle, exactly.  The odds were even more stacked against Lance considering Shiro’s entire body was a weapon – his arm especially – and Lance was weaponless.   But what _was_ in Lance’s favor was a) the murderous game they were playing and b) the environment.

Being apart of such a large family meant that he was used to playing these sort of games.  Granted, his life usually wasn’t a gamble in these games, but….  Yeah.  Lance was familiar with Hide ‘n’ Go Seek.  Being annoyingly hard to find and catch was just part of that territory.

And with a playground like an abandoned Galra base… well, Lance had all the hiding experience in the world to take advantage of that.  There was debris everywhere, broken walls and doors, wires hanging down.  If Lance was honest, it looked a bit like something out of a sci-fi horror film.

This was fine for Lance.  Well, maybe not _fine_ , but fine enough.  It just meant hiding was easier for him.   

“Eventually you’ll run out of hiding places.”  Shiro informed him.  Lance ignored him, as he had the past few times Shiro had said something in an attempt to get Lance to come out of hiding.   The man had taken to just talking in hopes that it would psych Lance out; or so Lance hoped.

It didn’t psych him out as much as help Lance keep track of Shiro’s location.

Apparently, based on his previous taunts, Shiro hadn’t thought Lance would be the type to run and hide.  Which was, frankly, ridiculous.  Lance was a _sniper_.  It was part of their job description to be utterly frustrating to locate.

An easily found sniper was a dead one.

If Shiro was looking for a fight, he should have brought Keith instead. 

Then again, most snipers would pick a spot and camp.  They didn’t like moving their nest unless strictly needed.  Movement meant a possibility of detection, which was a serious risk.  However, Lance couldn’t afford to stay put when he was weaponless and being actively hunted for.  Camping meant being a sitting duck for Shiro to find. 

He refused to be sitting duck.

If he kept moving, carefully and quietly, then he could keep tabs on Shiro’s location and work around him.    Besides, Lance had gotten good at having to move his nests thanks to Zethrid’s habit of tossing enemies at him. 

He was never going to thank her for that, even if it was actually helping him out now. 

“I know you’re here.”  Shiro stopped in the middle of what might have been a cafeteria at one point.  “There’s no escape, not for you.”

Ominous.   

He tried to tell himself that the seemingly endless darkness of the vent shaft was _not_ closing up around him, trapping and confining him.  A cloud of gas passed over Lance’s face, but he blinked and was left back in the inky darkness.

There was no gas, and even if there was, Lance had his helmet.  He was safe.  He was safe, and couldn’t afford to have one of his fits, one of his waking nightmares.  He couldn’t, he just couldn’t.  Not now. 

“Just give up.  Even if you did escape, who would believe you over me?”   Okay, so that actually did hit somewhere in the close proximity of home if only because Shiro was right.  No one had believed him.  Then again, he hadn’t really had any proof either.

But still.  He had warned Pidge and Hunk.  They hadn’t believed him and now he was going to die here.  Sure, they might start believing him once Lance died, but that was too little, too late for Lance.  If he escaped and told someone now, they wouldn’t believe him. 

Especially since Pidge thought that Lotor had gotten into Lance’s head to tear the team apart from within.   Why Lotor would want to do that with the Civil War going on was _anyone’s_ guess, but whatever. 

What did poor gullible trusting Lance know?

Nothing because that Lance was dead.  He died in a gas chamber on a Galra ship headed to the Druids and the Witch.  He died with calls for help caught in his lungs along with choking gas and the feel of a knife in his spine from betrayal. 

Not that his current predicament was much better.  Trapped in a ventilation shaft while an apex predator hunted him.  Oh yeah, this _wouldn’t_ be the staring attraction of his nightmares anytime soon. 

Lance forced his thoughts away.  They weren’t helpful, weren’t constructive.  He just needed to focus on his task at hand; which was his painfully slow crawl in one of the few vent shafts that spanned the room above Shiro. 

If he could just make it past this room, then he could drop down a few halls away, and if he was careful, make his way back to the pod to see the damage Shiro had done to it.

Obviously it would have to be repairable because how else would Shiro get back?  Unless he planned to wait until the team found this place, in which case, what was he going to do with Lance’s body?  Ugh, he wished he knew what Shiro’s plan was for AFTER he got what he wanted.

“If you come out now, I’ll make things easy on you.”  Shiro promised with a dark chuckle.  “Maybe I’ll even let you live.” 

Lance had a feeling that ‘living’ would be spent in a confinement tube waiting for Haggar to use him.  No thanks, he’d pass.  He saw enough of that in his nightmares, thank you very much.

“Gotcha.” Shiro called out, causing Lance’s heart to literally jump into his throat.  There was a crashing noise coupled with a couple of almost inhuman growls somewhere below him.  Lance’s entire body seemed to melt as he realized Shiro had not actually found him.

The vent underneath him groaned.

Lance had all the time to think ‘vrekt’ before something crashed into the vent, barely missing Lance’s foot by a breath.  He scrambled forward, certain with the knowledge that going _back_ was to greet death with open arms.

There was only one person Lance wanted to greet with open arms right now, and Shiro was most certainly not him.

Thankfully it seemed that whatever seemed to have happened to Shiro to turn him traitor and murderous had somehow impacted his intelligence.  Any normal person would have followed the vents to see where Lance could disappear to.  Shiro seemed determine to just _get_ to Lance and not even consider alternative – and easier – ways to get him.

It was like he had tunnel vision with how focused he seemed to be to just _get_ to Lance and murder him.  Which, could potentially work to his favor, if he was smart about it. 

He jumped out of the vent shaft a few hallways before he intended and landed in a crouch.  The artificial gravity in the place was all out of sorts, creating small pockets were the gravity appeared to work.  It seemed like he had found one of them. 

Getting back up into he vents would be a chore, but it would be a chore for later.   

…Geez, by the end of this he was going to join Pidge among the ranks of vent gremlins, wasn’t he?   If he survived this. 

Hell, if he survived this, he was _never_ going to go into a vent again if he could help it.  He was also officially leaving behind Voltron and joining up back up with Lotor – if the prince would have him.  If not, then Lance would figure it out later.

The sound of footsteps alerted Lance to the presence of another, and the only other person in this hellhole was Shiro.  His gaze darted around as he looked for anywhere to hide.  There were a few broken doors, some of them barely ajar large enough for Lance to possibly squeeze through. 

Beggars couldn’t be choosers.  He dove toward the one closest to him and squeezed his body through the gap. 

“Coward.” Shiro called out a few heartbeats after Lance had managed to work his entire body into the room.  “You’re only prolonging the inevitable.”  There was a crashing noise as Shiro apparently picked one of the doors in the hallway and ‘opened’ it in the typical murderous!Shiro fashion.

Vrekt.  Quiznak.  Fuck.  Shit.  ALL the curse words.

The room he was in was useless to him.  There were no other doors for him to escape through, and while there was furniture to hide behind, it sounded like Shiro was being very thorough in knocking out that possibility – if the sounds of destruction were any indication. 

There was a vent, but for once it was a proper size and unlikely to let Lance through.  He was trapped and he was going to die.

Or worse, be shipped off to Haggar and her Druids. 

His hands were shaking, Lance noticed.  That wasn’t good. Sniper hands needed to be steady, needed to be sure.  Otherwise he could miss a mark.  He needed to breath.  He couldn’t breathe.  There was gas in his helmet, sickly sweet and heavy.  He couldn’t breathe, and his shaking hands were at his throat. 

The gas was in his helmet but if he removed it, he would die.

He would die, he would die, he would die.

Better dead than an experiment.

There was another crashing noise of Shiro making his way through a door, closer than before, and Lance gasped sharply.  The air in the helmet was clear, he was fine, he was fine, he was… not fine. But not fine was okay if he was still alive.

And he was. 

Shiro just entered another room, he had time. 

He squeezed back through the gap, biting his lip to keep himself quiet.  He didn’t need Shiro to somehow hear and find him stuck between the door and the wall in a prime position to be murdered.  The crashing sounds continued; he was in the clear.

He made his way to the end of the hallway with no small amount of haste, but was careful to be quiet.  He didn’t need Shiro to hear him and leave his destruction.  He turned the corner, and only then did he break out into a sprint.

He stumbled as he broke the boundary of the broken gravity generators, and spun as he floated into the hallway.  There was even more debris here, and he used it – along with his boosters – to navigate the hallway and get further away.

One of the pieces of debris hit against the wall and made a loud screaming noise as it scratched against the metal.  Lance winced, first at the pitch of the noise and then at the mere existence of his noise.  He just gave himself away to Shiro.  Fuck.

He engaged the boosters on his back to further pick up speed and clear the hallway to the intersection.  He took a right, and hit the ground running as the gravity kicked back in.  Another intersection, a left, another left, a right.

Alarms blared in his head, the steady high-pitched drone of Galra alarms.  He was being hunted; chased down for sport.  He just needed to get out of the facility, out of the base.  He couldn’t stop moving.  If he stopped moving, he would be found.

He needed to get out.

He turned another corner and spun around, slamming his back to the wall as he slid down.  His hands gripped his helmet and he wished he could remove it so he could run his hands through his hair.  “Get a grip.”  He whispered to himself.  “Get a vreking grip.”

He lost track of time, a dangerous mistake when he was being hunted.  The base was quiet around him.  He couldn’t hear Shiro at all.  Had he lost him? 

That was both good and bad.  Good because Lance was ‘safe’, and bad because if he didn’t know where Shiro was then he had the advantage of surprise.

Lance bit his lip and stood.  He needed to get back to the pod.  If he did, then maybe he could fix the damage Shiro had done and escape.  No.  No, he couldn’t do that because no one would believe him.

Pidge would assume he left Shiro behind to die – which he would have, but whatever – and would insist on getting him back.  Shiro would spin some lie about Lance and boom!  No one would listen or believe Lance again.

But he couldn’t stay here.  Not with Shiro trying to kill him.  No, he would have to kill Shiro first.  Of course… Pidge would then accuse him of being a murderer and… ugh.

No matter what he did, his life was screwed.

He jumped at the echoing sound of Shiro’s voice. “This is getting old, Lance.  Aren’t you tired of running?”

Yes. 

Vrekt, yes.  Lance was tired of running, but he didn’t have any other choice.  Well, no, he did have other choices.  But the other options were to give up to Shiro, or something else he refused to consider.  And well, neither were choices he could take.

His entire body shuddered; his heart felt like it was beating too fast, too hard.  He needed to move, Shiro was close.

He turned a corner, a different corner than the one he had come through and—

“There you are.” Shiro smiled at him, sweet as the gas Lance had once choked on, and swung his arm.

There was no time to dodge.  No room to roll.  He brought up his arm and his energy shield burst into existence just in time for Shiro’s glowing fist to hit against it.  The force sent Lance flying onto this back and skidding across the ground. 

He turned the skid into a roll and sprung back up just in time to block another hit with the shield.   He pushed back against Shiro, despite knowing his strength didn’t hold a candle to Shiro’s.   However, it seemed Shiro hadn’t expected the resistance and gave, bouncing back to give Lance a _look_. 

No, it wasn’t that Lance had surprised him.  It was that he was _toying_ with Lance.

Vrekt.  Yeah, this was nightmare material, alright.

Shiro charged at him, and Lance brought up the shield once more.  This time, it broke under Shiro’s assault.  Lance didn’t give himself a chance to think about it and immediately dove into a roll the moment the shield started to give.  Shiro continued forward, his glowing hand crashing into the wall and a bundle of wires that Lance had assumed to be dead.

Well, if they were initially, they weren’t now.  Shiro’s arm had always been useful in powering and accessing Galra tech, and it seemed that that was _still_ working to Lance’s advantage.  The wires came to life as Shiro touched them, lighting up the area with purple sparks and flashes.

Well, a distraction was a distraction.  Lance took off.

“Get back here!” Shiro _roared_. 

The lights in this area of the ship dimly flickered.  Gravity was knocked out for a second before coming back, causing Lance to stumble.  A hand grabbed the back collar of his suit and he was pulled back and tossed into the wall where he crumbled. 

“What do you hope to accomplish?” Shiro asked him, leering down at him.  Lance tried to stay focused on him, even when he was desperately hoping there was something in his environment he could use. 

The lights continued to flicker dimly. Maybe if the gravity went back he could… His boosters!  Shiro apparently tired of waiting the few seconds for Lance’s response and swung his arm down just in time for Lance to access his boosters. 

Lance shot forward, skidding along the floor, but out of range for the attack.  Shiro growled, and Lance spun over, so he was on his hands and knees and sprung up.  There was another bundle of wires down the hallway.  If he could make it over to them, he could figure out a way to trick Shiro into hitting them.

Then he could use the distraction and hide in the debris in the hallway or try to escape. 

“Stop running, Lance!” Shiro was in pursuit, entirely too close for Lance’s liking.  “There’s no point.  I can’t let you leave.”

Lance slammed into the bundle of wires and spun around with them.  Shiro’s fist collided with them before hitting his chest.  Electricity sparked up his suit.  The effect was dulled by the insulation of the armor, but the spark still stole the breath from his lungs. 

He gasped like a fish out of water. 

The gravity generator must have blown for this area because he was distantly aware that he was floating.  He kicked off of Shiro and landed on his back against a wall.  He engaged his thrusters again and ran, Shiro’s screams echoing in his head.

~

Lance slumped against the wall, his hand over the scorch marks on his chest piece.  Lights flickered in his vision, his breathing unsteady and uneven.  If those wires had this kind of shock on him, he could only imagine what it had been like for Shiro.

He hoped he died.

He wasn’t sure he was lucky enough for that.  Shiro was, if nothing else, a survivor. 

“I’m going to die here.” He whispered to himself in a grim realization.  Shiro was right, escape wasn’t an option.  The only thing he could hope would be to inflict enough damage on Shiro that they both died, or that when Shiro returned, it was hella suspect.

Maybe if he could make it to the pod he could leave something in it.  A message somehow, something to warn the others.  They hadn’t listened to him before, but maybe – just maybe – they’d listen now.

He groaned as he pushed himself back up onto his feet.  Dark spots danced in his vision for a second.  He should rest more.  Most of the shock had been absorbed by his armor, but he needed to be careful.  Another blast like that and Lance wasn’t sure he’d survive. 

Then again, if Shiro could only take one more shock, then maybe… well, it wasn’t a bad way to go.

He sighed as he came to an intersection and made a guess.  He didn’t know where he was in the labyrinth of hallways and intersections.  Didn’t know where Shiro was.  Didn’t know where the pod was.

This was hopeless.

His only warning was the tiniest sound of debris hitting something, and he moved.  The glowing hand of Shiro grazed his helmet as Lance dodged forward.  “Where do you keep coming from!?” Lance shouted, spinning around to keep Shiro in his sights.

He dodged another attack, throwing his entire body out of the way and into a dodge roll.  Shiro growled, and held up his glowing hand of death.  As he curled his fist, an energy blade formed; because Lance’s life wasn’t hard enough.

“Let’s see you dodge this.” Shiro snarled, before swiping at Lance.

Vrekt.

Lance rolled, only barely missing a fatal blow.  The sword clipped his booster pack and an alarm flashed in Lance’s visor.  Vrekt, the thrust booster wasn’t operational anymore. 

He kicked at Shiro’s chest once he was able, temporarily throwing him back and buying himself a few seconds longer.

Not that it mattered.  His chances of surviving a fight against Shiro was already nil before he got the fancy sword, he might as well as cut his losses now.   Shiro was already back, relentless in his pursuit, his sword swung down. 

“Lance!”

There was a clash of sound and light as Shiro’s energy sword met with… Shiro’s glowing hand. 

Lance’s brain short-circuited, as he looked at two Shiros: one defending him and one attacking.  Lance was convinced he was somehow hallucinating this.  Then again, he hadn’t been hallucinating the murderous Shiro, and how could a hallucination stop him?

But if this other Shiro wasn’t a hallucination then… What the vreking quiznak?

“Keith.” The Shiro currently defending Lance grit out.  Lance could tell by his shaky stance that he couldn’t hold against the murderous Shiro for much longer.  But if the name the defending Shiro had just uttered meant anything, then he wouldn’t need to.

The stalemate broke just as Keith’s Mamora blade appeared and swiped down where the murderous Shiro’s arm had once been.  With the stalemate broken, murderous Shiro swung his sword, nearly clipping both Keith and Non-Murderous Shiro. 

“What the fuck?” Lance said.

“Shiro, take Lance and go!  I’ll hold it off!”  Keith shouted, using his sword to block a swipe and then sliding it down the energy sword to lock them in very temporary stalemate.  Non-Murderous Shiro seemed like he wanted to argue, but instead reached down with his non glowing arm to grab Lance.

Lance kicked him in the face and scrambled backwards and away.  “Vrekt that.” He wasn’t going anywhere with _any_ version of Shiro, currently non-murderous or not.  He took off down the hallway and skid as he turned came to an intersection and randomly picked to go right.

Behind him, he heard Shiro shout and the thundering footsteps of the murderous Shiro chasing after him.

“His mission is Lance!  He’s not going to stop until he gets him!” He heard _a_ Shiro shout, probably the non-murderous one. 

“We’ll figure something out!” Keith shouted back. 

There was another clash of sound, and Lance assumed that either the non-murderous Shiro or Keith managed to catch back up to the murderous one and delay him.  He wished them best of luck, and continued to run.

He hit a catwalk – which would have been nice to discover earlier – and kept running.

“Lance?”  He heard from down below.  Hunk.  Hunk equaled Bayard.  Bayard equaled long-range weapon with which to murder the murderous Shiro.  How to obtain?

There was a group of wires dangling down near the catwalk.  He could probably use them to swing down since his thrust booster was toast, provided they were live.

Vrekt, he hoped they weren’t live.  He jumped off the catwalk and grabbed the wires, ignoring the startled shouts of Hunk and Pidge.  Great, the gremlin was here too.  Perfect.  Now she could see that _Lance had been right._

He stumbled as he landed, falling into a roll and then nearly barreling over Hunk and Pidge.  “Your Bayard.” He demanded, breathless. 

“What?”

“LANCE!” Murder Shiro thundered before just jumping off the catwalk and landing in a crouch with no difficulty.  He didn’t even hesitate before surging towards Lance. 

What the fuck was he?  The Terminator?!

“Vrekt.”

Lance pushed Pidge out of his way and darted forward.  He heard her scream as Shiro’s new pretty energy blade nearly sliced her.  Shiro was single mindedly determined to destroy Lance, seemingly not even registering Hunk and Pidge’s existence.

Lance ran and at the last moment, swerved towards the wires into a rolling dodge.  Shiro swung, and there was an explosion of static light as his sword sawed though the cables and wires like it was a hot knife through butter.

“Your tricks won’t work anymore.” Shiro growled, swinging at Lance again.  Or at least, he attempted to. 

“Hunk!” Pidge shouted as murderous Shiro was sent flying through the air from a direct hit from one of Hunk’s canon blasts.

“Back off my friend!” Hunk shouted at murderous Shiro, ignoring Pidge.

Keith jumped down from the catwalk, using the now much-shorter wires that Lance had used.  He pulled up his sword just in time to block an attack from murderous Shiro. 

“Lance, I need you to stay here!” Keith hissed as he pushed back against the energy blade with his own.

“He’s trying to _kill me!”_ Lance shouted back, his voice a bit shrill and high pitched. 

Murderous Shiro grinned at Keith and spun his blade around.  Keith gasped, and then cursed, “Fuck,” as his blade went flying.  Murderous Shiro advanced, and Keith dodge rolled to avoid a swing and grab his sword back.   He brought it up just in time to block another swipe.

“This isn’t your fight, Keith!” Murderous Shiro growled at him before punching him with his non-glowing hand.  Keith went flying.   A moment later, so did Shiro as Hunk shot him again. He hit against a wall and fell to the ground. 

“Pidge, tie him up!  He’s weak to electricity!”  Lance shouted as murderous Shiro started to stand.  She shook her head, her eyes wide.  Her bayard wasn’t even summoned yet.  

“We need to get that arm off!  It’s how it’s being controlled.” Keith growled as he used his sword to pull himself up.  He launched himself at the murderous Shiro just as he got himself on his feet, and their blades met with a clash.

“That’s just a theory.” Non murderous Shiro said as he dropped down from the catwalk with a controlled descent thanks to his thrusters. “But we do need him alive for information.”

“He’s trying to kill _me/Lance_!” Lance and Hunk shouted at the same time.  “I can’t get a shot with Keith in the way.”  Hunk added after a second.

“Then give me your bayard.”  Lance snarled.  “I’ll take the fucking shot.” His mouth was running without his permission.  His hands were too shaking, there were still black spots in his vision.  He couldn’t make the shot; he knew he couldn’t make the shot.  

Non murderous Shiro surged forward past Lance, just in time to catch the energy blade of the murderous Shiro as he broke the stalemate between him and Keith.  Keith dodged around him, and brought up his sword in an upward strike.

There was silence as the energy sword flickered and died, and then a second later, Shiro’s arm fell to the floor in near perfect synchronization as murderous fell to his knees. “What have I done?” Murderous Shiro whispered. 

Non-murderous Shiro looked to Lance and sighed.  He reached out to touch Lance’s shoulder but hesitated when Lance jerked back away from him.  “Don’t touch me.” Lance growled. 

“Lance.” Keith barked out in an annoyingly authoritative way.  Lance barred his teeth and stood his ground.   

“It’s fine.” Non-murderous Shiro’s hand had been hovering in the space caused by Lance moving away, his fingertips outstretched like he was still expecting to touch Lance’s shoulder, but now it slowly fell back to his side.  His gaze flickered from Lance to the murderous Shiro and then back to Lance.  “It’s… fine.” The repetition was quiet, and as soft as the smile he offered to Lance.

The understanding pity in the smile felt like a knife twisting in Lance’s gut.  His lip curled as he returned the smile.  His was no where near as soft or understanding.  His was pain and anger, plastic and fake with barred teeth and the faint taste of cooper iron.

Non-murderous Shiro quickly adverted his gaze.  He knew a threat when he saw one.

“Lance, it’s _our_ Shiro.  The data on his arm is the same as what I had stored.” Pidge protested.

“How do we know _that_ one doesn’t have the same data?” Lance asked sharply, pointing to the murderous one with his chin.  “This one turns murderous and now another shows up, claiming to be the _real_ Shiro?  I. Don’t. Think. So.”

“This is the real Shiro!” Keith shouted, stepping forward toward Lance.  Lance’s fingers twitched, the desire for a weapon, any weapon, suddenly blaring in his head. 

“Keith!” Non-murderous Shiro frowned down at Keith.  “It’s fine.  His concerns are… valid.”

“Shiro.”  Keith interrupted; his tone softer than it had ever been for Lance. 

Shiro ignored him, and continued with, “I’m hoping Pidge can put them at rest once we’re at the castle.  She can run a scan on this one’s arm and see if it’s a copy to whats on mine.  If it’s not, then that means I’m me.  If it’s the same then…”  He glanced at Lance and frowned for a second before looking back at Keith.  “I don’t think we’ll be able to convince him otherwise.”

“I can do that.” Pidge replied.  Her gaze hadn’t left the murderous Shiro.  Murderous Shiro hadn’t been tied up or restrained, but seemed fine to remain kneeling on the floor, his gaze downcast and despondent.

“How are we going to transport him?”

“He won’t be any more trouble now.”  Non-murderous Shiro answered Hunk.  Lance laughed one sharp bitter laugh.

“Excuse us for not taking _your_ word on it.” He crossed his arms, his hands clasping onto his forearms in an attempt to stop them from shaking.  It wasn’t exactly helpful when his entire body was shaking. 

“Lance.” Now it was _Hunk_ reprimanding him.  Although, admittedly, Hunk was better about it than Keith.  Hunk sucked on his teeth and sighed.  “Actually, no.  I think I’m siding with Lance on this.  I’d feel better if he—”

“It.”  Keith corrected.

“He,” Hunk continued, “was contained or something.” 

At these words, the once-murderous Shiro looked up, his eyes wide as he stared at Hunk.  “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”  He said.  “I couldn’t stop it, couldn’t do anything.”  Excuse Lance for not believing any of that.

“I know,” Said non-murderous Shiro. 

“The one I fought on my mission said as much too before it died.” Keith added.  “It’s harmless without it’s arm.”

“And your mistake is believing that.” Lance spat out.  He glared at Pidge.  “I told you what happened to me.  _You_ didn’t believe me.”

“What happened to you.” Non-murderous Shiro repeated.  His eyebrows furrowed, but he didn’t comment or question further.  Which suited Lance just fine because currently non-murderous or not, he wasn’t exactly in the mood to deal with him.

Especially since Keith mentioned _another_ murderous Shiro.  One that had apparently tried to murder Keith – and failed.  Which must have been rough on Keith.  Poor guy probably thought he had actually killed the real Shiro, and with how into Shiro he was…

Yeah.  It would be like if Lance had to murder Lotor.  Which was –  Lance grimaced at the idea – something he didn’t want to think about ever again.

Keith eyed the armless Shiro and frowned.  “I’ll take it back.  Pidge or Hunk can take Shiro back, and the other can take Lance.”

Ideally for Lance, Keith would take the would-be murderer, Pidge took the ‘real’ Shiro, and he was stuck with Hunk.  Ideally.

However, if there was any thing he had learned from the fight, it was that Pidge couldn’t be expected to do anything against Shiro.  Not when she couldn’t differentiate the lines between the Shiro she knew and this other Shiro. 

And this new Shiro, the one that _claimed_ to be the original… he still had an arm.  What would happen if he turned murderous on Pidge once she was alone with him?  He had come back to Voltron to _protect_ his former team from _Shiro_. 

Hunk had, at the very least, been willing to shoot at him.

“I’ll take Lance.” Hunk announced. 

“I’ll be going with Pidge.  You’ll take ‘ _Shiro’_.” Lance disagreed, and ignored Pidge’s responding squawk to continue with, “I don’t trust her to be able to kill him if he turns out like that.” He pointed once again at the Shiro who was still kneeling.

Both Shiros flinched.

Lance couldn’t find it within himself to care.  He was tired, hurt, and honestly, he just wanted to curl up somewhere safe.   “If someone gave me a bayard, then I’d be willing to watch him.”

“You’d shoot him the moment his back was turned.” Keith accused, and yeah, well, that was fair. 

Non-murderous Shiro frowned, kneeled by the armless Shiro and touched the storage compartment.  The _Blue_ Bayard materialized in his hand and he tossed it in Lance’s direction.  “Here.” Why wasn’t Lance surprised that the bastard had had the Blue Bayard the entire time?

Lance was very proud that he didn’t drop the Bayard considering he was still shaking. 

“Shiro!” Keith and Pidge protested.

“If having a weapon makes him feel better, then fine.” Shiro shook his head.  “After what he’s been through, I think he deserves that much at least.”    He stood up and smiled that same pitying, understanding soft smile at Lance.  “When I heard you were here with _him_ , I thought…” He paused and sighed.  “I’m just glad you’re alive.”

He thought Lance would be dead.   The knowledge curled bitter, sour, and cold in his stomach and gut.  His grip on the Bayard tightened, and it hummed with the potential to transform.   

“I agree with Lance.  It’ll be best if he goes with Pidge and I stick with Hunk.”  Shiro continued to smile at Lance, and the more he did, the more Lance wanted to punch him.  Or, more aptly since he now had access to a weapon, shoot him in the face. 

“Fine.” Pidge agreed.  She glanced over at Lance and wearily looked him over.  “How do we know Lance isn’t an imposture too?”

Lance bristled at the accusation.  Like, excuse him? He wasn’t the one trying to murder Voltron Paladins, unlike a certain someone.

“Because Haggar was upset she had failed to get her hands on him to make one.” Keith replied.  “It was apparently why he had been singled out in the first place.  Found the information on my mission, I’ll forward it to you later.”

Pidge nodded.  “I’ll be watching for it.”

Lance rolled his eyes.  Of course Keith claimed something, and Pidge believed it.  “Lets just go.  I hate this place.”

~

They secured the once-murderous Shiro in what looked like a larger version of the capsule they had put Sendak in once they reached the castle.  Lance arched an eyebrow and looked pointedly at the non-murderous Shiro. 

“He’s not going in a cell, Lance.” Keith bit out. 

“Lance.”  Shiro sighed.  “I understand you don’t trust me.  I don’t like it, but I understand.  You have every right not to.”

“But?” Lance prompted.

“I’m not a clone.  I’m not under her control. If you won’t trust me, would you trust Lotor?”  Lance inhaled sharply at the name, his eyes narrowing.  What the vrekt did Shiro mean ‘trust Lotor’? 

“Lotor’s the one who found him.” Keith announced, crossing his arms.  Based on the reactions – or lack thereof – of Pidge and Hunk, they had already known this.  “He was trying to get in contact with Voltron when he stumbled across me on my mission.”

“And that was when you found the _other_ other Shiro?”

“Yes.” Shiro nodded. “The silent one on Lotor’s team confirmed my identity, and then Pidge confirmed the data on my arm was a copy when we got to the castle.”

“Narti.” Lance corrected.  “Her name is Narti, and she said you’re who you say you are?”

Keith and Shiro nodded.

Well, why hadn’t they started with that.  Except…

 _“Sometimes your team is the reason you need to watch your back.”_ Acxa’s voice echoed in his ears. _“Just that you can’t always rely on a team, Lance.”_  Acxa didn’t even trust her own team.  She trusted _Lotor_ , but even then, it was only that he would do what he said he would.

“I’d feel safer if you were in a cell until Pidge confirms that the murderous Shiro has different arm data.” Lance stood his ground.  “It would be best for the team. We don’t need another murderous Shiro on the loose.  Once was bad enough.”

Once again, both Shiro’s flinched – although the once-murderous one’s was much more pronounced.

“Lance,” He started before falling quiet and whispering, “I’m sorry.”

Sorry didn’t cut it.  Sorry didn’t erase trauma or time.  It didn’t erase the wounds caused by his actions.  Shiro – both of them – claimed it wasn’t his fault, that he was being continued.

Lance didn’t care.  Not right now. 

“You won’t rest unless I’m detained.”

“This is bullshit.”

“Yes.” Lance agreed.  To Shiro, to Keith, to all of the above.  It was bullshit, but he wouldn’t rest unless Shiro – both of them – were locked up. Not until Pidge could _prove_ to him that this Shiro was who he claimed to be.

She wanted him to prove Shiro’s guilt before… well great.  He wanted her to prove his innocence now.

“It’s fine Keith.” Shiro sighed.  “It’ll just be until Pidge goes through the data.  It won’t be long, and it won’t hurt anyone to do it.”

“But—”

“It’s _Fine_.”   Shiro said as he stepped into his own cell.  He smiled at Keith.  Keith’s shoulders slumped and he looked utterly lost for all of moment before He shook his head and took a seat by Shiro’s cell.

“I can at least keep you company.” Keith announced. 

Lance rolled his eyes, but it did make him feel a little better that Keith was staying.  At least if something were to happen, well, Keith was there.

Lance closed his eyes, inhaled through his nose and exhaled through his mouth before turning on his heel and exiting without a second look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys see any typos or mistakes, please let me know! Ghost works really hard to make sure she catches them all (like Pokemon), but they do sometimes slip through. 
> 
> Come Talk to me on my [Tumblr](https://star-gazing-knight.tumblr.com/)!


	11. Chapter 11

Lance did not sleep easy that first night, if one could consider the restless patches of unconsciousness spent curled around the Blue Bayard sleep.  He certainly didn’t, and as he later found out, neither did the Blue Lion nor Hunk.

Coran wanted to get him in a healing pod, but Lance couldn’t do it.  Just the thought of being trapped in the healing pod left him in a cold sweat.

Polite pass, thank you very much. 

So he avoided Coran and took refuge in his room for all of an hour before deciding that wasn’t enough.  He took his blanket and pillow with him to the Blue Hangar.  If there was _one_ place in the entire castle where he could be guaranteed safe, it was within the Blue Lion.

There was no chance that she would allow anything to happen to Lance, she had an awesome particle barrier, and if needed, she allowed for an immediate evacuation.   In terms of securing his safety, she was perfect.

A fact which he knew flattered her, even if she disagreed with him staying with her like he was.

Apparently she wasn’t the only one thinking that as after two days of his stay in the Blue Lion – venturing out only for food and updates on everything – Hunk snagged him on a food run. 

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself.” Hunk commented as he worked on creating a new recipe in the kitchen.  Lance considered for a second just getting the food goo – a thought that had his stomach turning – and running back to the Lion.

Somehow, he didn’t think Hunk would let him, and that had _nothing_ to do with the way Hunk was trying to move so he was between Lance and whatever doorway Lance was eyeing.

“I get it.  You don’t trust Shiro.”  Hunk continued.  “But Keith’s with them both.  Pidge’s been holed up running tests, and well, you’re _safe_ now, Lance.”

Lance didn’t feel really safe, a fact he showed by clutching his Bayard tighter. Hunk’s gaze dropped to the Bayard and he sighed. 

Okay, so Lance recognized that he was being paranoid, but could anyone really blame him?  Shiro – or at least a version or clone of him – had tried to _kill_ Lance.  Granted, it was because he was under the control of a murderous space witch, but that didn’t change the fact that it was Shiro’s face that he was going to see in his dreams.

Hunk pushed a bowl over to Lance and leaned against the counter.  There was a certain look to his eye that said that he wasn’t going to allow Lance to go anywhere without eating first.  Heck, Lance didn’t think Hunk was going to let him go anywhere even after he ate.

He picked at the bowl, wrinkling his nose when he spotted some food goo being used as some sort of ‘sauce’.  “It’s not ideal.”  Hunk said.  “But it’s better than nothing, and _you_ need to eat something other than that goo.”

“It’s quick and easy to take back to Blue.” Lance protested. 

“He speaks!” He announced, his eyes and face lighting right up.  “Success.  You’ve spoken and been fed, now I just gotta hydrate you and get you a decent night of sleep.”

“I’ve been sleeping.”

“In the Blue Lion.”  Hunk said.  “In the tiny little cots provided in the Lions for overnight missions and last resorts. Yeah,” He dragged out the syllables of the word, “I don’t consider that a decent night of sleep.  Tell you what, you can sleep with me tonight if it’ll help you feel better.  It’ll just be like our Garrison days all over again!”

Lance nibbled on a forkful of the food and considered it.  Not that there was really much to consider.  He doubted Hunk would let him return to the Blue Lion, which made sense.  Yellow Paladins were about stability, and it must have been killing him to see the team in the state it was.

And it wasn’t a _bad_ idea, exactly.  Hunk was right, it would be just like their Garrison days all over again.  Lance could get some sleep in a proper bed, and would still feel moderately safe.  He trusted Hunk, and Hunk had been willing to help Lance against the murderous Shiro when he was still murderous.

“…I… guess.” Lance muttered.  “What about Pidge?”

“She’s been busy in her lab.  You know how she be.” Hunk replied.  “I had to take over for her earlier so she could get some rest.”  He rolled his eyes and rested his head into his palm.  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you two took the same class in poor sleeping and eating habits.”

“Ha ha ha.” Lance moved the food around in the bowl.  His stomach growled, reminding him that he _was_ hungry, but…

The kitchen felt too open, even with Hunk there.  Too vulnerable.

“Is Shiro still…”

“Refusing to leave the cell despite Keith’s best attempts?”  Hunk finished for him.  “Yep, said he won’t leave till Pidge finishes her tests and _you_ give the go ahead.  Coran had to take the other into a medical pod, but he hasn’t come out yet.”

“…right.” 

“It’s safe for you to sleep out here.  Trust me.”

Lance looked down at the food he was moving around and then watched Hunk through his lashes.  Hunk started to hum, not moving and just waiting patiently for Lance.  Really, Lance didn’t deserve a friend like him.

If he was honest, the idea of staying with Hunk _did_ appeal to him.  Hunk wasn’t the person Lance _wanted_ to spend the night with but… he wasn’t a bad substitute.  “You’ll keep your Bayard on you?”   Lance asked.

“I won’t let it leave my side.” Hunk promised.

“…alright.”

“Perfect!” Hunk sat up and _beamed_ at him. “Once you finish that bowl we can swing by the Blue Lion and get your stuff.”

Lance blinked at him and then returned his gaze back to the food before taking a forkful and finally taking a proper bite.

~

Despite Hunk’s best efforts to get Lance to _“Just put down the Bayard, Lance”,_ he was still clinging to it the next morning.  Pidge had woken them up early, needing Hunk to double check her results; leaving Lance alone in the room.

Which was _fine_ and _good_ in all the ways that weren’t _fine_ or _good_.  He cautiously exited Hunk’s room, eyeing the corridors with more than a small amount of apprehension.  Shiro might have been resisting Keith still as of yesterday, but there was no telling whether today was going to be the day where Shiro would be roaming the halls.

Or, alternatively, if this was going to be the day that the Witch took over this Shiro and made him attack the team and Lance.

First thing was first: food.  He crept through the hallways, peeking and peering around the corners.  He hesitated as he was passing by the common area, the familiar sound of boisterous laughter that he _shouldn’t_ have been hearing reaching his ears.

He imagined that if he were a cat, his ears were would been twitching.

It was possible that the sound was a product of his mind and wishful thinking, but… his brain usually conjured horrible illusions and situations for him, like being imprisoned and gassed, not favorable things.  Certainly not the sound of _Zethrid’s laughter._

“I don’t believe you have a portable version of that game.” Zethrid’s voice flowed from the open doors of the common area, causing Lance to pause just before reaching the doorframe. 

No.  No, that couldn’t be an illusion or a figment of his imagination.  The haughty tone of voice, the deepness… it was all too real, too _right_. 

Lance peered around the doorframe and froze at the sight that greeted him. 

“How are you so bad at this game anyway?” Zethrid asked Acxa with another bout of laughter, no doubt laughing at the sour expression on her face.  Narti sat across from Acxa with Kova on her lap, leaning back with a look of clear confidence and smugness.  Lance only needed to glance at the holographic Kishet board to know that Acxa was losing, horribly.

Ezor had been sitting beside Acxa, absentmindedly twirling the colorful appendage on her head.  She had been looking around, but when Lance peeked into the room, her gaze snapped to him.  “Lance!” She exclaimed as she stood, garnering the attention of everyone else in the room. 

Zethrid’s laughter didn’t trail off so much as come to an abrupt halt. Kova jumped off Narti’s lap to make his way over to Lance and Acxa knocked the holographic game askew.

Ezor bit her bottom lip and hesitated for all of a moment before saying “I told Lotor.  He’s not happy with you.”

Well, that wasn’t anything Lance wasn’t expecting.  He stepped out of the doorframe knelt before Kova, offering his hand for him to smell. 

“He can tell me that himself.” Lance replied as Kova sniffed him and then headbutted his hand for pets.  A small smile tugged at Lance’s lips as he indulged the cat.  As temperamental as Kova could be, it was rare to be allowed the privilege of petting him.

“I will.”

Lance’s entire body jerked at the voice, his heart exploding into a thousand and one butterflies.  Their wings whispered a million and one things into his head, creating a cacophony of words and feelings that he _needed_ to express.  The loudest of which being: I missed you.

He looked up, his gaze falling immediately upon Lotor.  He had been leaning against a wall in a strategic position; one not easily visible from the doorframe. 

The butterflies increased their insistent demands that he spoke, and he opened his mouth to indulge them.  He meant to say, ‘I missed you’ or maybe even, ‘I love you’ but instead “What are you doing here?” came out instead. 

Lotor was silent as his gaze raked over Lance, once, twice; and belatedly Lance realized that he probably wasn’t looking his best.  Two nights of difficult, restless sleep would have taken it’s toll and it wasn’t like the one night with Hunk could have immediately repaired that.

If he had known Lotor was here, or would be here; then he would have put more effort into his appearance.  If only to keep the prince from undue worry.

Lotor’s gaze had fallen more than once to the Bayard Lance was still clinging to, and he knew that Lotor was carefully measuring his words and the situation.  Some part of him felt guilty about it all, but he couldn’t quite pin down why. 

“You look like shit.” Zethrid said.  Both Ezor and Acxa immediately shushed her. Narti smacked her leg with her tail and signed something that looked impolite.

“Nearly dying will do that to a person.”  Lance replied dryly. He didn’t remove his gaze from Lotor. 

“Excuse me?” Acxa asked, blinking rapidly in response.  Ezor let out a small soft noise that sounded like it might have been an ‘oh no’, while Zethrid frowned.

“What happened?” Lotor asked, ignoring his generals.  “Princess Allura has been less than forthcoming since we arrived.”

Lance could read between the lines, could read the questions Lotor was really asking.  He could read them, and he relished in how easy it was.  In how comforting it was. 

Lotor hated being left in the dark – a crime even Lance was guilty of – and was _concerned_.  He was _concerned_ about Lance.  His right hand twitched, a barely noticeable tell that he was _angry_ too.  _Angry_ at what had happened, at what conclusions he was drawing in his mind.  _Angry_ on Lance’s behalf. 

Lance opened his mouth and thought of everything that had happened.  Thought of Shiro’s original betrayal, of the distrust of Pidge and Hunk, of Shiro attacking him in the base, of his thoughts of _dying_.  His mouth shut again.  He took a deep breath through his nose and held it for a second before releasing it.

He opened his mouth again, licked his lips, and considered the memories and the nearly painful pressure behind his eyes.  He dropped his gaze back down to Kova, refusing to allow Lotor to see the wetness that he was sure was already welling up.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Narti tense and then make several hand movements that he couldn’t catch.  He scooped up Kova, and ignored the mewl of disapproval from the cat to cradle him in his arms; especially as he had to maneuver around the Bayard.

He considered allowing him to spill everything into Lotor until the prince was so angry with everything that he just did what angry Lotors did best and destroyed the entire situation in carefully placed sharp strikes and silver edged words. 

He wouldn’t do that. Wasn’t right to him, to Lotor, to either team.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He said quietly before glancing back at Lotor. 

Lotor’s fingers twitched again and his chin lowered just the tiniest amount to cover his delicate neck.  His eyes narrowed; his ears twitched.

Lance didn’t think he was furious at him, at least, not entirely. 

“How long as you here for?” Lance asked.  He didn’t want to allow himself the chance to find ease in Lotor’s presence only for it to be ripped away again.  He didn’t think his heart could handle it.  Not after all that had happened.

Lotor’s gaze once more raked over Lance, slow and leisurely.  Lance allowed the prince his time to formulate the right silver touched words to say. 

“As long as necessary.” Lotor replied after a long moment. 

As long as necessary.  As long as necessary for Lance or for the answers Lance had just denied?  Lance’s body shook as the pressure behind his eyes grew.  He heard more than saw Lotor come closer, and before he knew it, Kova was replaced by the prince himself.  The cat made his opinion on his hasty displace well known with a low growl.

Lance always liked how tall Lotor was; how Lance could just slide up against Lotor and fit _perfectly_ in his arms like he was always meant to be there.  He pressed his face into the cool hard planes of Lotor’s chest armor and wished that he could stop himself from shaking.

Wished he could stop himself from being tired.  From being scared.  From being angry. From being tired of being scared and angry.

He wished he could just erase this whole ordeal from his life, and pretend that he had never left Lotor’s side.  He wished he could just remain in Lotor’s arms where he was safe and secure and sure that none would dare try to even touch him.

“There will always be a place with us for you.” Lotor whispered into his crown, and Lance felt his body shudder as that pressure only increased.

Why couldn’t Lotor understand?  For someone so smart, he could be so dumb.  Of course Lance wanted to return.  Wanted to be held safe and secure in his arms.  Wanted to be part of a team where he was valued, wanted, and believed.

Of course he wanted all that.

But life was more than just ‘wants’.  It didn’t matter, in the end, what Lance wanted.  It wasn’t his choice.  Not anymore. 

Besides, there were two Shiros now.  And yeah, one of them was missing the weaponized arm, the other one wasn’t.  And that didn’t mean that they weren’t dangerous.  That they couldn’t be controlled again by some other means than the arm.

He came back to the team to protect them, and he wouldn’t be protecting them if he left _now_.

Not that leaving was even an option.  Allura would never allow it.  Heck, the terms of the alliance would never allow it.  Allura had seen to that.

He wouldn’t let Lotor throw that alliance away for Lance.  He wasn’t worth that.

Not that he could tell Lotor that he knew about that.  That he knew about Allura’s threat and ultimatum.

“I can’t.” Lance pulled himself away, both physically and with words.  He longed to return back to the safety of Lotor’s arms, but held fast.  He couldn’t.  He took an extra step back just in case he fell to temptation.

Lotor’s ears visibly drooped, but despite that, tried to appear as unphased by Lance’s rejection as possible.  Lance knew he had hurt him – again – and it was like taking a fire poker to his heart and all the butterflies it housed.

“What are you doing here?” Lance asked again.  Besides making his life difficult by offering choices Lance wanted to take but couldn’t.  Besides making his heart ache.  Besides reminding him of all he could have, but couldn’t. 

“For an update.”  Lotor replied.  “When I located the Black Paladin, I was… concerned.  Especially upon learning of your concerns about rejoining the team from Ezor and that you were on a mission with the imposture.”

This was all information Lance _hadn’t_ had before.  Information he hadn’t known he needed to seek.  Sure, he had wondered the hows and wheres and whys, but not enough to seek the answers.  Had he known Lotor was involved, he probably would have.

Lotor, being his hero even when he wasn’t on his team anymore.  Even when they were… broken up?  Exes?  Did those terms count when they were separated not by choice but circumstance?

“Keith said Narti verified this Shiro was the real one.”

“As far as she could tell, yes.” Lotor nodded.  “The specifics are unclear, but it seems that your Shiro was transported after the battle with Zarkon and replaced by this clone.  I found him and was able to glean information about the cloning facility, where we met up with your Red Paladin.”

Lance imagined Keith had been _ecstatic_ about running into Lotor.  Especially since, “Keith said he killed another clone.”

“Indeed.” Lotor confirmed.  “I have been following up on the records that we found to confirm their authenticity.  There were only two successful clones: one that was sent to infiltrate the team, and the other which was ordered to protect the facility.”

Records could be fakes.  Facilities could be lies.  There _could_ be more Shiro clones, waiting and hiding to infiltrate and destroy.  **_But_** , Lotor had followed up to confirm authenticity.  To prove that the records were valid. 

He trusted Lotor; trusted how thorough he could be.  Especially with something like this.

Although, it was funny that Pidge had thought that _Lotor_ had sent _Lance_ to break the team up when it was really _Shiro_ that had been sent to do that on the _Witch’s_ orders.  Somehow, he didn’t think Pidge would find it as funny as he did.

“Once both Paladins were secure and the facility destroyed, we met up with the Princess Allura and explained the situation.  She indicated that _you_ were on a mission with the clone.  Knowing that the Witch could monitor the situation through the clone, I volunteered to distract her whilst your team retrieved you.”

Lance could hear the unspoken, ‘I would have joined them or sent one of my generals had I known this would be the state you would be returned in.’  It was touching and sweet, and Lance really wished Lotor had sent one of his along because none of them would have hesitated to hand Lance a weapon.

But on the flip side, he was glad none of them had come along because if this really was the original Shiro, then Lance would have unjustly and unduly killed him.

Quiznak, Lance was so tired.  Like, not in a physical sense since he did get some moderately decent sleep with Hunk; but in an emotional sense.

“When you want to talk about what happened, we’ll be here to listen.” Acxa said. 

“And if you don’t, that’s fine too.”  Ezor added.

“You’re alive, and that’s what’s important.” Zethrid crossed her arms and nodded at Lance.  “It must have been some ordeal for you, but you survived.  That’s pretty impressive.”

“I—”  Lance blinked away the wetness building in his eyes again and swallowed thickly.  “Tha—”

“There you are.” Lance nearly jumped at Pidge’s abrupt voice coming from the doorframe.  He spun around to look at her, and she gave him an apologetic look.  “I’ve been looking for you.” She explained in a slightly softer tone.

Pidge didn’t always do well with comfort; a fact Lance had become very familiar with over the course of their shared time in space.  She was better with facts and logistics than feelings; and generally preferred  machines to anything alive for that reason.

He appreciated that she was trying for him. 

“Here I am.” Lance replied.

She glanced at the others in the room and fidgeted.  “I see you found our… guests.”  She continued to fidget with one of the Altean datapads.  When Lance didn’t respond, she continued with, “I finished the tests, and the clone didn’t have the same information encoded into the arm that _our_ Shiro did.”

“What do you mean?” Lance asked.  He didn’t cross his arms so much as wrap them around himself.

“Well, like, okay, so _our_ Shiro had that data from Ulaz, right?  That data isn’t on the clone’s arm at all.”  Pidge eyed Lotor’s group as she explained, although Lance couldn’t understand why.  The base that the coordinates on Shiro’s arm corresponded to didn’t exist anymore.

Besides, Lotor already knew about the Blade of Marmora.

“But everything else is the same?” Lance asked.

“Well…”  Pidge shifted her hold on the tablet as she adjusted her glasses.  “Not exactly.  I couldn’t find any of the energy blade, energy canon, or self-destruct software in _our_ Shiro’s data.  I couldn’t find the spyware either.  I even had Hunk help!”

Okay, so clearly she had taken some classes on human socialization from Hunk, because the presentation of news was well given.  However, even the best presentations couldn’t perfectly distract from the actual content.

And in this case the content was terrifying.

Not only had there been an _energy blade_ , but a _canon and a self-destruct sequence_ as well.  Had the clone not decided to _play_ with Lance, he would have been dead a million times over.  Vrekt.

“He double checked my results and even looked through himself!” Pidge continued, and Lance wasn’t sure if she was just babbling due to a lack of response or because she sensed how ‘well’ Lance was taking the news.

“I’m sure Lance feels that comforting.” Lotor’s smooth tone was a comfort, but the feel of his presence at Lance’s back was even more so.  He rested a hand on the small of Lance’s back and Lance allowed himself the momentary weakness of leaning back against it.   “So you’ve confirmed your Shiro to be who he says he is.  That falls in with the research and reports I’ve found.”

Lance closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose before exhaling out his mouth.  After another breath, he looked back at Pidge.

It was great she had taken the incentive to dive that deep into the data.  To search to see what programs and data there was and compare it like that.   With something this in depth, even if Lotor was wrong – unlikely – and there were other clones, the team would be able to differentiate them.

At least that bit of news was a relief.  However, it didn’t mean Lance was suddenly magically okay with spending time with Shiro again.  Lance wasn’t sure he would ever be able to look at Shiro again and not see that feral grin.  At least, not any time soon.

_“…who would believe you over me?”_ Murderous Shiro echoed in his brain, the words sickly sweet like poison.  Well, now the Voltron team would.  At least for something like this.  And he knew Lotor’s team would believe him too.

“So what are we going to do about the clone?” Lance asked.

Pidge fidgeted again. “Well,”  She started before biting her lip and twisting the datapad around in her hands.  “As far as I or Hunk could tell, he’s harmless without his arm.  He can’t be controlled, and it _was_ his primary weapon.”

“But?”

“S—Keith thinks that he might have information we can use.” Pidge continued.  Lance snorted, her slip not escaping Lance’s notice.  That didn’t sound like a very _Keith_ -like idea.  “If we replace his arm with our tech, he might even be useful.”

Oh vrekt no.  Hell no.  Quiznak no.  All the curse words no.

Lance was 100% _not_ on board with this idea.  At least, not around _him_. 

_“There would always be a place with us for you.”_

He could leave Voltron and return to Lotor.  There were no clones with Lotor, no bad memories and experiences.  But he couldn’t just run away from this, from the team. 

Besides, he didn’t think that the others would allow it.  He was a Paladin of Voltron and all that that entailed.  He was a Defender of the Universe.  He couldn’t just _quit_ to go join his… Lotor’s team just because of a little trauma.

The situation was safe.  Everything was _fine._ Neither Shiro could be controlled, neither of them were murderous towards Lance.  All was good, and fine.  The only thing Lance needed to fear was in his nightmares.

Telling himself that didn’t stop his heart from feeling like a jackrabbit. 

_“Sometimes your team is the reason you need to watch your back.”_ Acxa’s voice reminded him in his mind.  With either Shiro on board, he would never know rest again.   He would always be wondering, waiting… looking over his shoulder.

Based on some of the stories Lotor had told him, he wouldn’t put it past the Witch to have more than one way to control the clones.  The clone’s last mission was Lance, and Shiro had said that the clone wouldn’t stop until Lance was dead.

UGH, he just needed his head to be _quiet_.  He just needed to stop thinking.  Thinking wasn’t his job, it wasn’t his specialty.  He needed to leave the thinking to the likes of Pidge and Hunk and maybe Allura and Shiro.  Definitely Lotor and Acxa.

They were better cut for this type of stuff.

Why was Pidge coming to him with all information anyways?  “You tell Keith all this?”

“Yeah. He wanted to release Shiro immediately.”

“So he’s out?” Lance asked, all the tension that had been removed by Lotor’s presence suddenly reflooding him. 

“No!” Pidge cleared her throat and then repeated in a more level tone, “No, of course not.  He refused to leave without your permission.”

…

Lance blinked, and wondered if he had misheard. “Without my permission?”  He repeated. 

“Yep.” Pidge confirmed.  “Keith’s so annoyed,” she added with a smirk.    Well, yeah, Lance was willing to bet that Keith was annoyed.  That was like Keith’s default setting.  So naturally, he would be even _extra_ annoyed now.

“Okay.”  Lance nodded to himself.  “I guess, I mean, if you and Hunk double checked and everything. I just… I don’t want to see him.  Not yet.”

“He’s not—ugh, fine.  You’re right, I’ll go let Keith know.”  Pidge turned to exit and then paused to look over her shoulder.  “I’m not gonna be a messenger forever.  At some point you need to talk to Shiro yourself.”  She said before continuing out the door.

Lance let out a heavy sigh.  She was right.  At some point he would need to talk to Shiro himself.  It was basically a guarantee given his position.  But was it really so wrong of him to want to push it off for as long as possible?

“So… if Shiro’s locked up, where’s the clone?” Ezor asked.

“In the med bay since I electrocuted him and Keith cut his arm off.”  Lance replied, too tired to try to squirt around the question. 

“You… electrocuted him?” Zethrid repeated, and he didn’t need to see her to know her eyebrow was raised.

“I _don’t_ want to talk about it.” Lance bit out.  “I really don’t.”

“Well, I know one way to get one’s mind off unpleasant memories.”  Lotor said, and put his hands on Lance’s shoulders to gently spin him around so he was facing the other generals. “Go play some Kishet with Narti while I track down the princess.” 

Lance eyed him, Narti, and the still skewed game of Kishet Acxa had been playing with Narti.  “You’re not going to go make trouble, are you?” He asked Lotor. 

Lotor’s smile was as sharp as the silver that normally dripped from his tongue.  “Of course not.”

Somehow, Lance didn’t believe him.  He exhaled heavily.  Whatever trouble Lotor stirred up was trouble Allura probably deserved.  And a game of Kishet _did_ sound nice.  He bit his lip and sank down onto the couch beside Acxa. 

~

A couple hours later saw Lotor returning looking fairly neutral in a way that Lance knew meant that he hadn’t walked away from the conversation victorious, but he hadn’t left empty-handed either.  He wondered what it was that Lotor had gone after, but figured he’d find out sooner or later.

Either Lotor would tell him – improbable as he wasn’t on Lotor’s team anymore – or he’d find out through Voltron.

Or he wouldn’t find out at all and it would forever be a mystery.  Lance thought this might be the kind of mystery he was okay with ignoring.

“We’ll be staying with Voltron for a few days in order to review everything that had happened.”  Lotor announced.  Lance glanced up from the board – he was losing anyway – and blinked.

“A few days?” He repeated, his heart slowly sinking.  He knew that Lotor wasn’t going to stick around forever, but still… some part of him had hoped that maybe, just maybe, he could spend some more time with Lotor’s team. 

“If you’re amenable, it was suggested that you might stay with us in the meanwhile.”  Lotor said, his gaze resting on Lance with a weight he swore he could feel.  Lotor wouldn’t beg, but Lance thought this might be the closest he’d seen in a while.  “I don’t find the castle particularly comfortable, so it’s been agreed that I, and my team, will return to our ship each night.  You may join us, if you wish.”

Lotor wouldn’t offer unless it was something that he wanted, and if Lance was honest, he shared that want.

“I—Who suggested it?” Lance asked.  “Not that I’m looking a gift horse in the mouth or anything, because hell yeah I’d be okay with staying with you guys but, like… I didn’t think…”

Acxa and Ezor both wrinkled their noses at the saying.  “A what?” Zethrid asked before shaking her head.  “You know what, never mind.  Forget I asked.”

“No.”  Ezor shook her head.  “I want an explain—"

“The Black Paladin suggested it, actually.”  Lotor interrupted, getting the conversation back on track. “I believe he thinks you’ll be more at ease with our team and off the castle, considering the ordeal you’ve been through.” Lotor replied. 

Ezor crossed her arms and pouted.  “You’ll be explaining later.”  She whispered under her breath.  Lance had no doubt that she would hound him until he explained.

As for Lotor’s words… they made no sense to him.  **_Shiro_** had suggested that Lance stay with Lotor?  Because he thought it might be easier on Lance. 

It would be, without a doubt.  It would give him extra time to work out his complicated feelings on Shiro without having to see him.  Because he wasn’t ready to see Shiro.  Not yet anyway.

“Alright.”  Lance half shrugged.  “I mean, I’m not gonna complain. I… haven’t been sleeping well since… everything.”

“We could tell.” Zethrid said. 

“Zethrid!” Ezor and Acxa shouted.   Narti smacked her in the leg with her tail. 

Zethrid grimaced as she leaned down to rub where she had been smacked, her ears laying flat against her skull.  “What?!” She protested.  “It’s true!  If his appearance didn’t give it away, the moves he messed up on in the game definitely did.”

“Then it’s decided.”  Lotor announced.  He smiled at Lance in a gentle way that made Lance’s heart ache.  “I’m sure you’ll sleep much better with us.” Were the words that Lotor said, but what he meant was ‘I won’t let anything happen to you under my watch.’ 

“By ‘us’ he means ‘him’.” Narti signed to him.    

Of course, Lance didn’t think this meant he was off the hook for any of the things he’d done.  Like lying to everyone about wanting to return to Voltron.  Ezor said she told Lotor, so, surely he knew all about how Lance knew. 

He just didn’t think Lotor was going to bring it up during this trip.  Or at least, if he did, it would be before he left.

“Oh, I’m sure.” Lance smiled at her.  “I’m counting on it, actually.”

“Lance smiling?  The bayard on the other side of the room?  I’m dreaming.” Hunk announced from the doorway. “Man, Shiro wasn’t kidding when he said you’d probably feel better with them for a lil’ bit.  Gotta say, I’m kinda jealous.  You guys know how much I’ve tried to make him feel at ease?”

Lance actually chuckled at Hunk – leading to Hunk doing a double take and then giving him a thoughtful look – and shook his head.  “They’re good at being distractions.”

“I’m sure, but, oh!  I needed to know if you guys were gonna be staying for food or…”  He gestured in the air as he trailed off.

“We’ll attend to our own needs.”  Lotor replied and then after a moment of hesitation added, “And Lance’s as well, of course.”

Lance blinked up at Lotor.  No more food goo?  Hell.  Yeah.

“You got any Seski fruit?”  Lance asked, and aw yeah.  Hunk’s reaction was _so_ worth that.  His mouth dropped and Lance was certain that if he had been drinking, he would have had a spit-take. 

“Uh.”  Hunk said.

Lotor looked at Lance like he was missing his head.  “Of course.”  He said like it was obvious.

“The question isn’t whether he has any,” Ezor started.

“It’s if he’ll share it.” Lance finished along with her.  “I know, I know.  But I just hoped… you know after so long of food goo…” He batted his eyes at Lotor and purposely trailed off.

“You’re a fiend and I regret ever letting you into my life.” Lotor announced.  “Of course I’d share it with you.” 

“Not fair.” Ezor sighed.  “I want some Seksi fruit.”

“Too bad.” Lance replied.  “It’s _all mine_.”  He paused and then grinned up at Lotor.  “And his, of course.”

“Right.  So… Uh, I’m gonna go.”  Hunk said before taking a sidestep and exiting back out of the room.  “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He called out as he left.

~

The next few days were dotted with various meetings which Lotor had to attend.  Some were done over the screen with various people on his side of the civil war, and others were done in the castle with Allura and maybe the other Paladins.

Lance wasn’t entirely sure as he wasn’t apart of them.  Not that he minded.  Meetings tended to be snoozefests, and while he was sure he could always do with more sleep, Allura tended to look down upon naps. 

He had a feeling that he should be concerned about the meetings, considering the amount of time he spent with Lotor’s team over Voltron, but… he couldn’t help how much more at ease he felt with them.   

Hunk definitely had noticed, and had started to spend time in the common areas with them.  Pidge as well, although he wasn’t sure if her presence was because she wanted the social interaction or out of curiosity about Kishet and the determination to win at least _one_ game.

If he wasn’t in the common room with Lotor’s generals, then he could usually be found with Blue.   The meeting Lotor and the Generals had needed to attend with Allura was probably going to take some time – it always did. 

So he was surprised when the hangar doors opened only about an hour after the meeting was set to start.  He grabbed the Blue Bayard but didn’t activate it, yet.  He knew he didn’t need it – really he did – but he just couldn’t stand to be far from it while in the castle unless near someone else he trusted.

He never wanted to be caught alone without a weapon again.

“Lance?”  Hunk called out as he entered the hangar.  He looked around for a second before continuing with, “Hello?  You here buddy?”

“What’s up?” Lance asked, putting the Bayard back down.  It was just Hunk…

Hunk twiddled his fingers the way he often did anytime he wasn’t sure what to say, and Lance waited patiently for him to work it out.  “You’re… uh, needed at the meeting.”

“Me?” Lance blinked.

“Yeah.  Lotor and Shiro have pushed it off for as long as they could but… you’re statement is kinda needed.”

His… statement.  Lance blinked again, opened his mouth, shut it and opened it again.  “Pass.”

He had no interest in reliving the events unless there were no other choice.  Everything that needed to be said was already known.  He had nothing else to add.  Besides, Shiro would be there and well, Lance wasn’t entirely sure he was ready to see him yet.

“Lance.”  Hunk sighed. “You were a witness—”

“I think I was a hellova lot more than a ‘witness’, Hunk.”  Lance snapped.  Hunk blinked and took a step back, his mouth gaping for a second before he regained his composure.  Of course, guilt slammed into Lance immediately.  He sighed and looked away.  “I’m sorry, I just… I can’t, Hunk.”

“I know, I know.”  Hunk replied.  “That was why it’s been tabled so many times but… it can’t keep being put off.  Either you come to the meeting, or we all come to you.”

It probably most likely wasn’t meant as a threat, but Lance still took it as such, bristling at the implication of people entering the Blue Hangar. 

“You’re the only who—” Hunk continued only to be cut off by Lance.

“Who what, Hunk?” Lance demanded.  “Had suspicions about Shiro that no one listened to?  Was chased and nearly _killed_ by him?  _Pass_.”  Lance shook his head.  “I can’t; don’t make me.”

“Look, I wasn’t supposed to say this, there’s more to the suggestion about you hanging out with Lotor’s team.  It kept getting tabled for the same reasons and Allura, but… they’re talking about you returning to Lotor’s team.”

…

…

…

“Excuse me?”  Lance hissed, equal parts horrified and excited.  This was like his best dream and worst nightmare all rolled into one situation.  He wanted nothing more than to return to Lotor’s team, but to do so would ruin the terms of the alliance. The alliance that Lotor most assuredly _needed_.  “I don’t think I heard you right because it sounded like you just said that I might be returning to Lotor’s team.”

“You, uh, well, you did.” Hunk twisted his foot into the ground and continued to twiddle his fingers.  “I wasn’t supposed to uh, um, say anything.  So, could you not—”

“Who the hell suggested this?”

“Shiro, actually.  Brought it up not long after you started hanging with the team.  It was Lotor who first suggest tabling it, because you know, you were traumatized and—”

“He called me traumatized?”  Lance asked, raising his voice into a near shout.

Hunk winced and stopped twiddling his fingers to pat the air in the ‘calm down’ gesture.  “Not in so many words, but uh…I mean, he wasn’t the only one!”

“Not. Helping. Hunk.”

“Uh… just come to the meeting Lance.”

“Fine.” Lance ground out.  “I’ll go to the stupid meeting.”  Lance stormed past Hunk and then paused when he noticed he wasn’t following.  “What?”

“It’s just… I thought you’d be happy at the idea of returning.  You’ve seemed… miserable since you left and well, these past couple days are the first time I’ve really heard you laugh since…” Hunk trailed off and sighed.  “It doesn’t matter.”

“No.”  Lance shook his head.  “Hunk, buddy, it’s more complicated than that.”  Lance sighed and crossed his arms.  “I’ve come to the conclusion that Lotor and I can’t be together the way we’d like.  Not easily or without some sort of miracle.”

“I don’t know, Shiro seems pretty onboard with the idea.  He thinks it’ll give you all the time you need to heal, and will allow the clone – Kuro, he’s named him – out of the med bay and…”

“He named him?”

“Well, he couldn’t keep calling him ‘Shiro’, now could he?”  Hunk replied before catching up with Lance and walking with him to the meeting room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys see any typos or mistakes, please let me know! Ghost works really hard to make sure she catches them all (like Pokemon), but they do sometimes slip through. 
> 
> Come Talk to me on my [Tumblr](https://star-gazing-knight.tumblr.com/)!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late Posting. I was going to post on Sunday when my sister called me about a minor family emergency that took up a majority of my time until today.

For as much as Lance believed himself ready, once they actually reached the meeting room, he found himself hesitating.

Hunk hovered protectively over his shoulder.  He knew that his friend was eager to just get this all over with, but Lance had just been frozen at the realization he’d be seeing Shiro again.  Like, he had realized it before… but now that he was outside the door, it was just a whole different story.

Through the door, he heard the muffled sound of Pidge snorting, followed by her saying, “I still can’t believe you named the clone Kuro.”

“We couldn’t keep calling him ‘the clone’ or ‘Shiro’.” Shiro replied in a near perfect mirror of what Hunk had said.  “Especially if we’re going to be keeping him around.”

… Lance felt like his breath was caught in his throat, like he couldn’t breathe.  He knew they were _thinking_ about keeping the clone around and Hunk had basically said as much earlier but… Lance shook his head and stepped back, accidently colliding with Hunk’s body.  “I can’t.” He whispered.

“You can.” Hunk reassured him.  He gently pushed Lance a step closer to the door. 

Lance shook his head again.  “I can’t, Hunk.  I can’t.”

“I’m right here with you.  So is Keith and Pidge.  Lotor’s in there too.  Nothing will happen.  You aren’t alone.”  Hunk continued to assure Lance.  “Just _trust_ us, please.”

Lance still didn’t move.

Hunk sighed, and shook his head before reaching around Lance to trigger the door to slide open.  Whatever conversation that had been going on promptly fell silent as everyone stared at the door – no, at _Lance_.

“Lance.” Shiro stood up, his eyes were wide, but his lips were curved into a gentle smile.  “I’m glad you could join us.  I’m sorry we couldn’t give you more time; but we need to know, from your view, what happened.”

“You all already know what happened.” Lance dug his heels into the carpet and pushed back against Hunk, trying to see if there was any give at all.  There was none.  “Is that all?”

“No.”  Allura replied in a clipped short tone.  “Pidge and Hunk both indicated that you suspected Kuro of being an imposture since your return to the team.  I would like to know the grounds on the suspicions as well as why you did not bring them to my attention.”

It was easier being under Allura’s stare than Shiro’s.  He swallowed thickly and turned his attention to her, even as every alarm in his heard went off at the idea of _not_ giving Shiro his full attention. 

“The mission I was sent on was a set up.  When I realized the data chip the Shiro clone had sent me to retrieve was blank, I suspected it was Shiro who had set me up.  It wouldn’t have been the first time a Black Paladin betrayed the team.”

Shiro winced. 

“So you suspected Kuro of being the traitor and returned anyways?” Keith asked.

The instinctual response was that he didn’t have a choice in returning, but Lance bit that back.  “Yes.” He said instead.  “I wasn’t completely sure, and I figured if I came back, I would be a more likely target than anyone else.”

“What the fuck, Lance?” Pidge asked. 

“It made sense!” Lance replied.  “I was the one who had been backstabbed, so naturally that made me more a threat.  I figured regardless of who the traitor was, they’d reveal themselves when they went after me.”

He was very careful to avoid looking at the area of the table where Lotor’s team sat.  The last thing he wanted was to see their reactions to this, to his ideas and thoughts.  Granted, he’d been right.  The traitor had been who he assumed it to be, and had gone after him.

“And your choice not to inform anyone?” Allura asked. 

“ _Loose lips sink ships._   The more people I informed, the more likely the traitor would find out.  ‘Sides, just because I suspected Shiro didn’t mean that Shiro _was_ the traitor.”  It wasn’t like Lance could just say ‘think about your definition of justice and the whole ‘guilty till proven innocent’ thing you got going on and ask me again why I didn’t come to you’.

“So you chose to tell only the Green and Yellow Paladins of your suspicions.  What if they were the traitors?”  Lotor asked.

“It wasn’t likely to be one of them based on the set up.”  Lance replied. 

“Okay, so once you painted a target on your back, then what?” Keith crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat as he looked at Lance.  “You just waited to be attacked?”

“No wonder he was so jumpy.” He heard Zethrid ‘stage’ whisper to Acxa, bringing Lance’s attention over to them.  Acxa responded by smacking her on the arm and giving her a very stern look that said, ‘shut up’. 

“Was there any other reason you came back?” Keith asked, his tone more than a little rough and offended.  

Lance shifted, the thought of the other reason he had come back to Voltron flashing in his mind.  He eyed Allura and then Lotor before finally looking to Ezor.  As if recognizing what he was thinking, Ezor suddenly seemed very interested in her lap.

“Yeah there was, actually.”

“Because we’re your friends?” Pidge suggest, shrugging and arching an eyebrow. “That would fit Hunk more than you.”

“Well, yeah.”  Lance fidgeted again. 

“That’s not the only other reason.” Keith said, furrowing his eyebrows.  “What now?”

Lance could have lied, could have said that there was nothing more to it.  But Ezor had told Lotor already.  Lotor knew that Lance knew about the whole ‘Lance must return if you want the alliance’ thing.  There was no point in hiding it anymore.

“Allura wouldn’t agree to an alliance unless I returned.” Lance admitted.

A person would be able to hear a staple drop, it was so quiet in the room.  However, it seemed that the silence Lance’s words brought was just the calm before the storm as few seconds later the room exploded into a cacophony of noise.

“The hell are you talking about?” Keith demanded.

“We wouldn’t make that a term!” Hunk argued.  “That’s like… black mail or extortion or something.”

“You allowed that to be a term?” Acxa asked Lotor, her eyebrows furrowing like she couldn’t believe this. 

Ezor turned a little opaque as she stared up at Lance.  She quickly signed, “Lotor didn’t know,” and Lance knew he messed up.

Shiro stood and opened his mouth, presumably to silence the room, but Allura took care of that with two quiet words; “You knew?” 

“What the fuck, Allura?” Pidge demanded, and that started a flurry of reactions from everyone else.  Lance was a bit touched to see that they were all along the same line as Pidge’s reaction. 

“Enough!” Shiro slammed his hands down on the table.  He gave Allura a look that basically echoed Pidge before looking back to Lance and sighing.  “Lance, what do you mean?”   

Instead of answering Shiro directly, Lance leveled his gaze at Allura.  He could have looked at Lotor instead, but with Ezor’s message of Lotor not knowing bouncing in his brain, he wasn’t sure he could.  He didn’t want to see the prince’s expression.

“I overheard you sparing with Lotor, and you threatened to withhold the alliance unless I rejoined Voltron.  Lotor argued that he wouldn’t force me to come back, even if it cost him the alliance.”

“You… were not supposed to know about this.” Lotor said.  Lance still refused to look at him.  “I didn’t want it to influence your choice.”

Lance curled his fist and told himself not to respond.  He took a deep breath and turned to face Lotor.  “You were being an idiot.” He informed him.  “You’re _still_ being an idiot.  You need this alliance for your people, and I’m not worth losing this alliance.”

“I repeat: what the fuck, Allura?” Pidge growled.  “Like, what the fuck?”  She shook her head.  “I can’t believe this.”

“The Universe needs Voltron.” Allura announced.  “Lance was chosen to be the Blue Paladin.  He can’t ignore that calling.” 

“Right.” Shiro said.  He looked at Lotor.  “I think this is a good time to bring up our earlier discussion.”

Both Lotor and Allura replied at the same time.  Lotor’s reply was a slightly breathy “Agreed,” which sounded far too much like he was trying to not sound excited.

Allura’s, “Absolutely not,” was sharp and harsh and immediately followed by, “Lance is vital to Voltron as a Blue Paladin.  We cannot put the _wants_ of one before the _needs_ of the Universe.”

… This was literally the same argument as from their alliance talks.   Did she have no other excuse for Lance to remain?  Could she think of nothing else?  She could have brought up his friendships and ties to the team, or about how she was his best bet of getting back home to Earth, or… literally anything else.

“Lance affected millions of lives across the Galaxy with his work in the Civil War.  After all, it was due to his work with me that allowed your Green Paladin to be reunited with her brother, was it not?”

“It was.” Pidge admitted.  “I wouldn’t have found him otherwise.”

Shiro nodded, and looked to Allura.  “You piloted the Blue Lion in Lance’s absence before; couldn’t you do that again?”

Allura blinked at him, her mouth slightly agape before she regained her composure.  “You cannot be serious, Shiro.  Yes, I was able to, but I’m not meant to be the Blue Paladin.  The connection isn’t the same.”

Oh yeah, Allura and _Trust_?  Lance didn’t see it.

“Can’t another be chosen?” Shiro asked. 

Lance wondered where exactly he was going with this.  Was he really… was he really thinking about Lance going with Lotor?  If so, what about the alliance?  What about Voltron?  Lance didn’t think he would be siding with Allura during any part of this conversation, but he found himself agreeing with the statement, ‘You cannot be serious, Shiro’. 

“It’s not unheard of, but it is extremely unlikely.” Allura announced.  “Additionally, locating a new Blue Paladin will ruin the team’s progression—”

“I think we can all agree that it would better benefit the team, Lance included, if Lance were to take a break with Lotor’s team.” Shiro interrupted her.  “We can give finding a new Paladin a chance.  If it doesn’t work out, then we can discuss Lance’s return.”

“His _return_?!” Allura repeated.  “He shouldn’t be leaving at all.”

“As much as I favor the direction of this conversation,” Lotor cut in smoothly, “I still stand by my original position that the choice should be Lance’s, and Lance’s alone.”

Lance wanted to say yes, more than anything.  This was like a dream come true – the possibility of him returning to Lotor.  But it also seemed all too good to be true.  Things didn’t happen like this for him.  He wanted to say yes, but “What about the alliance?” escaped his mouth instead.

“Obviously, it will be disso—”

“Unaffected.” Shiro corrected Allura with a stern look.  “Your return should never have been one of the terms to begin with.  So, what do you say?”

Lance looked at Allura, who was puffed up in indignant anger but apparently conceding the loss if her silence was anything to go by.  He looked at Keith and Pidge and Hunk.  He looked at Ezor, Acxa, Narti, and Zethrid.  He looked at Shiro, who was waiting patiently, and then finally, he looked at Lotor.

Lotor was looking at him, his mouth just barely open like he couldn’t believe the turn of events any more than Lance did.  His eyes were just slightly wide, his ears perked up in alert attention.  Both of his hands were on the table, but one was curled, and he was turned to face Lance like Lance held all of his attention.

Of all the things Lance expected… being asked this was… it was unbelievable.  He had told Hunk only a miracle would allow him and Lotor to be together.  He hadn’t expected…

He could feel pressure building behind his eyes, but this time he thought the tears might have been ones of joy.  “Yes.” He breathed out.  Had the room not been silent waiting on his response, it might not have been heard.

Lotor let out a breath, his shoulders slumping like he had actually been afraid that Lance would refuse.  That Lance would deny and reject him again.   And had this been any other time, he might have – no matter how much it hurt. 

But this wasn’t like any other time.  There were no obstacles in Lance’s way now.  If anything, he seemed to be given a blessing instead.

“Then that’s settled.”  Shiro announced.  “Although, I would like to add in a few conditions such as weekly check-ins.  Additionally, if anything were to happen to Lance, I would expect to be informed immediately.”

“Of course.”  Lotor said, perhaps too quickly.  He seemed to realize that as he cleared his throat and continued with, “Reasonable amendments.  I suppose there is an additional provision that should you require Lance’s assistance, it will be given?”

“Naturally.”   Shiro agreed.  “If it comes down to it, I refuse to see why we can’t hold shared custody, similar to the agreement we have with the Blade over Keith.”

“As long as he keeps in touch with us.” Keith said, which Lance supposed was as good as he was going to get from him.

“It’s not like he’s switching sides.”  Pidge agreed.

“I’m gonna miss you, buddy.” Hunk said.  “Send me food recipes from all the crazy planets you’ll visit.”  He squeezed Lance’s shoulder before pushing him in the direction of Lotor’s side of the table.  “Take good care of him.”  Hunk _advised_ Lotor.

“I wouldn’t dream otherwise.” Lotor replied. 

“We’ll take excellent care of him.  Who knows, maybe he’ll stop being so scrawny.” Zethrid tagged on.

Thunderstruck at his team’s support and the fact he was actually returning to Lotor’s team, Lance sank down into the seat beside Lotor in a daze.  Lotor’s hand disappeared under the table to hold one of Lance’s and squeezed.

Lance squeezed back, his mind still reeling over what just happened. 

Ezor poked him under the table and when he looked at her, she flashed him a stunning smile.  “Don’t think you’re in the clear though, mister.”  She mouthed before returning her attention to the meeting. 

Lance blinked.   He knew that he wasn’t in the clear.  Lotor was bound to want to talk to him after they were back on the base, but until then… everything was beautifully perfect.  Too perfect. 

With his free hand, he pinched his thigh.  The pain said this wasn’t a dream, and once again, it hit him.  This was real.  This was really real.  _That_ had just happened.  He was going back with Lotor.  He was part of Lotor’s team again.  It was tentative until Blue selected another Paladin, but still.

He couldn’t pay attention to the rest of the meeting.  He knew Lotor and Shiro and Allura had gotten into a few more arguments, but he just couldn’t bring himself to care enough to pay attention when he was holding hands with Lotor and going to be going back with him.

The meeting finished in a blink of an eye – for Lance at least.  He knew from the other’s faces that it had been long and annoying, but Lance hadn’t felt it at all.  Lotor squeezed his hand again, and Lance felt those butterflies prepare themselves to burst from his chest.

“Don’t worry, he’s so out of it he won’t care; watch.” Zethrid said to Acxa as they stood up to exit the meeting room.  “Hey Lance, Acxa touched your rifle.”

Well, that was enough to snap Lance out of his daze.  He blinked twice as the words slowly registered.  “You touched my rifle?” He asked.  Of the Voltron team, Hunk and Pidge both hesitated at the door, looking back at the Lotor’s group.

Zethrid froze with her eyes wide and mouth dropped open.  “Oh.”  She whispered.  “He was listening.”

“Oh no.” Lance heard Hunk say.

“I did not!” Acxa replied with no hesitation.  Lance narrowed his eyes and stared at her for a good long moment. 

“I’ll fix it.” He sighed.  “And then you will never touch my rifle without me again.”

“I didn’t touch it.”

“Oh, she totally touched it.” Ezor said.  “She was wondering about the settings you had it on.”

“She messed with his sights.” Pidge whispered, in a tone akin to gleeful horror. “Lance is going to murder her.”

Lance continued to stare at Acxa for a good full moment before taking a deep breath.  “You know what, I just got the best news ever, so I’m gonna let this go because I don’t want this moment ruined.  Don’t touch my rifle again.”

“No murdering teammates.” Lotor reminded the group.  He paused and then leveled a look at Acxa.  “And no messing with other’s weapons.”

“He’s letting it go now, but we’ll be hearing about a funeral later.” Pidge commented.  “Make sure to keep us updated.” She called out to Lance before giving him a grin and following the rest of Voltron out the door. 

When it slid open, Lance could hear Allura arguing with Shiro.  He didn’t envy him at all.

Hunk glanced at the still open door and sighed.  “I meant it about keeping in touch.  Don’t think I won’t follow you.” He warned Lance before following after Pidge.

“Lovely teammates.” Ezor commented.  “Also, Acxa totally did touch your rifle.  Don’t listen to her lies.”

“Do you need to grab anything before we go?”  Lotor immediately asked, squeezing Lance’s hand to bring his attention back to him.   “I don’t believe our presence will be welcome for much longer so long as the princess’ mood remains unreasonable.”

Well, Lance couldn’t say he disagreed with that.  And he really didn’t want to push his luck with his miracle.  But…  “I should say goodbye to Blue.”

“The Lion?” Zethrid asked. 

“She’s more than just a ship, you know.”  Lance replied sharply. 

“I just thought it was your princess being all melodramatic.”  Zethrid shrugged. “But whatever.  I suppose you want us to make sure the ship is ready to go?” She addressed the last part to Lotor.

“Why are you asking me if you already know the answer?” Lotor asked, arching an eyebrow.  He nodded his head towards the door.  “We shouldn’t be long.”

The walk back to Blue’s hangar was a silent one at first.  Lotor had yet to release their hands, and honestly, Lance didn’t mind.  He even squeezed it a few times if only to remind himself that it was there.  That Lotor was there and was going to stay. 

Or well, that _he_ was going to stay with him.

“I can’t believe that happened.” Lance muttered.   “Like, I know it just happened but…”

“It seems so hard to believe.” Lotor finished.  “To be honest, I had begun to think…”  Uncharacteristically for Lotor, he trailed off for a second before shaking his head.  “It matters not.  You’re with me now.”  He brought up their joined hands, and kissed the back of Lance’s hand gently.

Lance’s cheeks flushed and he averted his gaze.  Stupid giggles bubbled up in his throat, but he forced them down.  But for as giddy as Lotor’s action had made him, his words had made guilt churn in his gut.

“I’m sorry.” He said.  “I should have told you.”

“We can talk about it back at the base.” Lotor replied, swiftly.  “I’d prefer to have the conversation where no prying ears other than that of the team may hear.”

“They are a bunch of nosey Nancys, aren’t they?”

“They had bets on us getting together.”

“Did they really?” Lance asked.  “Huh.  How much?”

“Unfortunately, I lack the specifics.  I imagine you’ll find them out by the movement’s end?”

“I am a bit of a gossip girl.” Lance admitted with a small shrug.  “Now that I got a juicy little tidbit, you can bet I won’t let it go.”

“I thought as much.”

They came to a stop outside the Blue Hangar.  Lance sighed as he pressed his hand to the door.  “I’ll miss her.” He admitted quietly.

“As long as you keep her in your heart, she’ll never be far.”

“That’s incredibly sappy, even for you.” Lance teased with a grin.  He triggered the door to open and took a deep breath as he looked up at Blue.

Her eyes were dark, but he knew she was there, watching and listening.  Reluctantly, he let go of Lotor’s hand as he approached her, and put both hands onto the cool metal of her paw.

“You’ll never believe the sappy nonsense that just came out of Lotor’s mouth, beautiful.”  Lance said. 

“I see now where your love truly lies.” Lotor commented dryly from somewhere behind Lance.  Lance thought he might have been lingering by the entrance to give Lance some measure of privacy.  “I was only trying to make you feel better.”

“He said, get this, he said that so long as I keep you in my heart, you’ll never be far.”  Lance chuckled and ducked his head.  “Funny thing is, I think he’s right.  We’ve been through a lot together, haven’t we girl?”

It was faint, but he could feel a rumble of agreement from the Blue Lion.  He swallowed thickly and nodded.  “I’ll miss you.”  He whispered as he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against her.

She descended upon him like a cool breeze, brushing his consciousness with her own.  Tears pooled in his eyes as he knew she felt the same. 

He pulled away and wiped away his tears just as he heard one of the hangar doors open.  Lotor’s responding footsteps were quick – too quick – and before Lance knew it, Lotor was at his side, his hand hovering over where he kept his sword.

Only one thing could make Lotor respond like that in this castle, and the implication of it drew Lance’s blood to ice.

He turned to see the clone standing at the far side of the hangar, his wide eyes trained on Lance.   Lance shook his head and took a step back, so his back was against the Blue Lion.  He _knew_ the clone wasn’t a danger anymore, just as he knew the clone had been controlled.

But that knowledge didn’t make facing his tormentor any easier.

“What are you doing here?” Lance demanded with a shaky voice he wished was steady. 

“I overheard you were leaving.” Kuro explained.

“Yeah.” Lance replied.  “I came to say goodbye to _Blue_.”  Kuro seemed to catch the ‘not you’ that was implied if his responding flinch was anything to go by.

“Right.”  The clone nodded.  “I understand that, and I understand that I am probably the last person you want to see right now… But I wanted to apologize.  I know you don’t want to hear or believe it, but I really didn’t want to hurt you.”

Lance stared at the clone, and the clone stared at him. “You wanted to apologize.” Lance repeated.  “It wasn’t even your fault.  You were being controlled.”  Lance parroted the words Hunk and Pidge had told him over the past week, but they sounded weak even to his own ears.

“I… I need time.  I don’t know that… I just need time.”  He didn’t understand why the clone was apologizing for something he couldn’t control.  Why he was seeking forgiveness from Lance.

Lance could maybe forgive him.  It wasn’t his fault after all, but all the forgiveness in the world wasn’t going to help Lance stand to be in the same room as him.  All the understanding wasn’t going to magically make Lance’s nightmares vanish.

Lance sighed and tapped on the Blue Lion.  “Keep an eye on this one, Blue.”  He advised.  “After what we’ve gone through, I’m not the only one with trust issues.”

Unlike last time, the loss of his connection with Blue was gentle, like a wave washing over a message on the beach.  He shivered as he felt her leave him, and then gasped when he noticed Kuro’s startled wide-eyed expression had switched from Lance to the Lion.

“When I said keep an eye on him, this isn’t what I meant.” Lance grumbled. 

He got the distinct feeling that had he been still connected to her; he would have sensed her laughter.

“You better take good care of her.” Lance informed Kuro. 

“Uh.” Kuro’s gaze switched back to Lance for a second before returning to the Lion.  “You can count on it.”  He said after a moment. 

Lance nodded.  That was going to be the best he was going to get.  “We should go.  Don’t want to keep the ladies waiting.”  Lance said to Lotor.

“Shouldn’t we inform someone of the Blue Lion’s choice?”  Lotor asked.  He tossed a look over his shoulder at the clone, who was approaching the Lion at the same pace they were leaving.

“Nah, they’ll figure it out.” Lance shrugged. “I actually feel kinda better knowing she’ll be keeping an eye on him.”  He sighed and took Lotor’s hand once more.  “I just want to get back.”

Lotor looked once more over his shoulder before nodding.  “As you wish.”

~

Despite having left the castle ship for the past few nights, leaving it now was like taking a breath of fresh air after being confined in a house for a month.  Tension melted out of him as he finally felt moderately at ease for the first time in what seemed like forever. 

He was returning to Lotor and his team.  His relationship with Lotor was still intact.  The traitor in Voltron was ferreted out.  Most, if not all, secrets were aired out.  Everything was good.

He didn’t even realize he had fallen asleep until he was awoken sometime later by Lotor carefully shaking his shoulder awake.  “You can rest once inside.”  He promised.

“No.”  Lance yawned as he shook his head.  “I’d rather get our talk over and done with.”

Lotor frowned and looked over his shoulder.  “Acxa,” he said. 

“Sir?”

“Ensure the coffee is ready.” 

“Of course, sir.”

Lotor looked back to Lance and sighed.  “If you insist.   Come along then, let’s get this over with.”

“Mm.” Lance hummed.  He rubbed at his eyes before yawning into his shoulder. “Yeah, yeah.” He waved his hand in the air like he could bat Lotor’s words away. 

Lotor sighed again, but looked upon Lance fondly.  “Why do I have the suspicion that you’re going to continue to be a headache for as long as I know you?”

“Because I probably am.” Lance half shrugged.  “But you love it.”

His brain, of course, realized what he said a fraction of a second _after_ he had already said it.  Well, shit.  He hadn’t meant to say that, not so soon after everything. Like he knew he and Lotor were still a thing, but were they still at that point in their relationship?  Like what if that was too forward.  What if Lotor—

“I do.”

–did love it? What? Lance blinked up at Lotor.

“Am I dreaming?”  He wondered out loud.  One corner of Lotor’s lips twitched upwards as the price half laughed, half snorted. 

“I forgot how much of a delight you could be half awake.” Lotor shook his head fondly.  He helped Lance to stand and then placed his hand on the small of Lance’s back as he guided him through the base.  “I’ve missed you.”

“Fuck.”  Lance replied, and then a second later, “I missed you too.  Every day, every hour.”

Lotor was silent for a moment and then, “Why did you do it, then?” Ah, so they weren’t waiting for the coffee for this discussion.   “You could have informed me about your suspicions.”  He sighed.  “In hindsight, all of this better explains your Waking Dreams.”  He paused verbally for a second.  “I suppose it would be a safe assumption you may have new ones?”

“Probably, most likely, yeah.”  Lance paused and half considered the question fully, thinking very briefly to the ordeal and shivered. “Most definitely.”

“I will endure to keep that in mind.  I would suggest speaking with Narti on the matter.”

“Mmm, will do.” The scent of coffee was growing stronger as they walked, and after a few more steps, Lance was willing to bet that the source was wherever they were going for the talk.  “I do have a question that wasn’t answered with Voltron.”  Lance said.  “About my rescue.”

“Oh?”

“How did they find me?  In the Asteroid field?  Don’t suppose you know, do you?”

“I do actually.”  Lotor replied as he opened a door with a push of a button and gestured for Lance to enter.  “I thought you would know, considering you must have broken the device I gave you in order for it to give off the emergency signal.”

“You gave me a tracker.” Lance repeated.  He wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that, but then again, it had been apparently the thing that saved his life. 

“It only became a tracker when broken or activated.”  Lotor replied.  “So you didn’t break it?”

“No, Kuro did.” Lance frowned.  “He stole it and broke it in front of me.  I thought… I didn’t think I was going to be leaving that base.”  He wrapped his arms around himself and was more than a little dismayed to find his hands shaking.  He had hoped that the closure with Blue and Kuro would have helped.  And it did, but…

Time.  He just needed time.

Lotor exhaled sharply and moved behind Lance to wrap his arms around him.  “We don’t have to do this now.” Lotor said into the crown of Lance’s head.  “The meeting with Voltron was enough.”

“It wasn’t and you know it.” Lance wrapped a hand around Lotor’s arm and leaned back into the prince’s embrace.  “I should have told you, should have come to you earlier.”

“What’s done is done.”  Lotor replied.  “I shouldn’t have tried to keep Allura’s ultimatum from you.  You should have told me you knew.”

“Lesson learned: communication is good.” Lance joked.  Lotor let out a bark of laughter before pressing a kiss to Lance’s head. 

“A wise lesson to learn.”  His Hands dropped to Lance’s waist as he spun him around.  “I’m glad you’re back.” He whispered before pressing a kiss to Lance’s lips.

As Lance returned the gesture, he couldn’t help but to think that he was glad to be back.


End file.
